“Where did he say he’d hidden them?”
Jennifer choked back her emotion, trying to calm her voice. “With the car. In the car.”
“And they weren’t there?”
Jennifer shook her head slowly. “I looked everywhere. I ripped apart everything I could, even opening up the door panels and checking under the spare tire. I didn’t find a single scrap of paper or evidence that he’d left, and I even went through every inch of the garage.”
“Why?”
“Well, he said ‘with the car’, so I thought maybe that meant where the car would be parked, but I still didn’t find anything.”
Amanda’s heart sank. “They think you know where your father stashed the evidence, or they think you already have it.” She turned toward her pale friend. “Jennifer, you’re in terrible danger! You need to go talk to the cops right now to tell them what you know. These guys aren’t the type that just stop coming after someone, are they?” Jennifer shook her head, her eyes wide, and Amanda grabbed Jennifer’s arms.
“You need to get this out in the open. I’m going to call James right now and you need to tell him everything, okay?”
Jennifer nodded just once, her eyes still locked on Amanda. “But even if I tell the cops, what am I supposed to do about the evidence? I can’t find it, and that’s what the bad guys want.”
Amanda was already dialing her phone. “I don’t know, Jennifer, but making sure you get some protection seems like a step in the right direction.”
Chapter 16
Amanda loved her old red bike, and she loved coasting down into town from Ravenwood Inn on a bright autumn morning. Living on top of the bluff gave the Inn a great view of the beach but also made a perfect place to enjoy the autumn sun and orange and gold foliage as she rolled downhill, on her way to do some errands.
When she’d first started riding her bike in Ravenwood Cove, it had been hard to pedal back up the long hill on her way home, but the more often Amanda rode her bike the easier it had become, and on dry days like today she was happy to fill the wicker basket on the front of the bike with whatever small things she purchased from the local stores. Today she was going to swing by Kazoodles toy store, hoping to find a new jigsaw puzzle she could put out on the library table in the main parlor, where her guests could putter over finding the perfect piece. She’d discovered that something as simple as an old-fashioned puzzle was a great ice-breaker and gave her guests a chance to chat a bit over a mutual activity.
Jennifer had already been hard at work for a couple of hours before Amanda left. It felt wonderful to have someone so capable and eager to work, and Amanda has been thrilled to discover that under Jennifer’s quiet demeanor was a personality that truly enjoyed making things clean and pretty for the families. While Amanda had a few days to recuperate from being attacked, Jennifer had worked long hours to make sure that everything was up to snuff at the Ravenwood, and when Amanda had finally come home from the hospital, escorted by a worry-faced James, she’d been stunned to see how tidy the kitchen was, and how natural and warm Jennifer was when talking to the guests.
Having an employee to help had actually given her enough time to read the latest edition of the Ravenwood Tide newspaper. It was such a simple joy to sit in a warm jacket on the huge covered porch and go over the news of the day. Whether it was a front page article about the current murder investigation or the weekly calendar listing all the club meetings and after-school activities, she loved reading every word.
Jennifer had even made sure to hand Amanda a thermal cup full of hot coffee as she left the house. Best thing I ever did was hire her, Amanda thought, as she locked up her bike to a tree on Main Street, and walked into the two-story wonderland of Kazoodles toy store.
Once she had her new puzzle bought and had said goodbye to Grace TwoHorses, promising to come back in when the handmade kaleidoscopes arrived, Amanda decided to take advantage of the rare sunshine to swing down the lane toward the main residential area. It was the end of the season, and maybe Owen Winters would have some extra pears to sell. Amanda’s orchard was full of apple trees, but Owen was known to grow the most luscious pears, and had set up a wooden coffin-sized box with shelves in front of the gate to his house, stocking it with bags whatever fruit he had available and putting out a lockbox for people to tuck their cash into. There were a lot of people in Ravenwood Cove who lived hand to mouth, and Owen Winters was one of them, but there were also plenty of townsfolk who were happy to trade their money for the fruit from Owen’s neatly-pruned orchard.
Swinging down the lane, Amanda was surprised to see Mrs. Bitterman talking intently with Truman, her hand gripping his tattooed arm as he leaned forward to hear every word the adamant lady was telling him. He was nodding his head in agreement, his usually happy face very serious as he listened. Just as Amanda stopped by Owen Winter’s small fruit stand, she saw Mrs. Bitterman reach up and hug Truman, almost fiercely clutching him to herself as he leaned over and hugged her back for several long moments. Then he sighed and let go, taking a step back but leaning down to say something quietly to her before he pedaled away, his dog Benny trotting happily alongside. Mrs. Bitterman saw Amanda standing with her bike, but just turned and walked back to her garden, her lined face a mask of reflection.
By the time he pedaled past Amanda, Truman seemed to have his emotions under control. He waved in happy greeting as he biked by her and she waved back, even as she was puzzling over what she’d just seen. Intrigued, Amanda stopped her bicycle outside Mrs. Bitterman’s gate, catching the attention of the older lady, her garden gloves still on her hands.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bitterman. I didn’t know you knew Truman so well. Did you know him before he moved to Ravenwood Cove?”
Mrs. Bitterman’s eyes cut sideways and she stumbled a bit over her words. “Oh, he’s just a friend who someone told me about awhile back.” Her voice grew stronger. “A couple of years ago he actually came and visited with us over Thanksgiving break. He’s a lovely young man,” she stated firmly, and without another word she turned and walked quickly up the walkway, ignoring Amanda completely.
That was completely unlike the normally friendly lady, and Mrs. Bitterman lived alone, so Amanda had instantly caught the fact that she’d used the term ‘us’ when she talked about Truman visiting. It gave her something to think about as she slowly pedaled home, the image of Truman hugging the old lady still fresh in her mind.
The ride on her bike was a bit long and a fair amount of it was uphill so by the time Amanda rolled into her circular drive she was puffing with exertion and keeping an eye on the gray clouds moving in over Ravenwood Cove. She’d had plenty of time to think about her encounter with Mrs. Bitterman while she’d pedaled home, and she’d also figured out one other thing. If Mrs. Bitterman had mentioned Thanksgiving break, that was a term usually reserved for someone in school. Just as she put the key in her front door she paused, remembering. Two nights before, Truman had been waving at her from across the street as he walked his dog Benny by the Ravenwood Inn. He’d been wearing a warm gray hoodie with the name of a university on it. Amanda put her purse down and tried to remember exactly what it had said.
It was the name of the largest university in the state, and had the added words PHARMACOLOGY DEPARTMENT written in block letters underneath.
Pharmacology. Drugs and medicine and such. A place that would teach information that could be absolutely deadly in the hands of a student with a grudge.
Maybe Mrs. Mason was right when she’d told Amanda about the argument Truman had with Anderson Bowles in the bakery. Maybe he was capable of killing someone.
Chapter 17
It took Amanda almost an hour to poke around on the internet enough to find the contact information for Brian Whittier, an old friend who’d worked with her in LA. She’d remembered that Brian had always rooted for the football team of the same university that Truman attended, and at this point she was desperate for any info or leads she could get. Brian sounded sur
prised and pleased to hear from her, and after exchanging some pleasantries he gave her another phone number, this time for a buddy of his who had gone to the pharmacology school.
Armed with the fact that she knew how old Truman was from his conversation about his last birthday, she had calculated the approximate years that Truman may have attended pharmacology classes. Amanda felt awkward and uncomfortable calling a stranger, but Sheila was friendly and chatty on the phone. She hadn’t attended at the same time Truman had, but her younger brother had, and she gave her his number. Within fifteen minutes of her leaving Alan a voicemail she got a call back.
“Alan, did you know a Truman Majors from college?”
“Sure I did. He roomed in the same dorm I did, just down the hall. We used to go to the games together, and he’s the best chess player I ever saw. How’s he doing?”
Amanda tried to keep her voice neutral and friendly. “Well, he’s doing fine,” she lied. “He’s started a new business in Ravenwood Cove, as the owner of a kite and bike store, but I had some questions about his time there at the pharmacology school. Can you help me out?”
There was a pause. “You’re not a reporter or something, are you? He’s not some secret serial killer or international drug lord, right? Look, I just don’t want to be that guy on the news who always says ‘he seemed like such a nice guy and I never suspected a thing’.” The words were light, but his tone was serious. “Truman seems like a good guy and I don’t want to get him in any trouble.”
“Actually, I’m a friend of his and I’m trying to see if we can keep him out of trouble,” Amanda said, trying to keep her voice steady. It wasn’t exactly a lie, even if it wasn’t entirely the truth. “I know he went to the pharmacology school there, but I don’t know when he left or why. Did he graduate?”
There was a snort of laughter, or maybe disgust, from Alan. “He should have graduated; he was the best student in the program. You never heard what happened, did you? Figures he wouldn’t tell people.”
“What happened?” It was almost as though Amanda’s heart skipped a beat while she waited for the answer.
“Truman was interested in some girl here. Evelyn, I think. He’d been mooning over her for months, and the first time they went out on a date this other guy got mad at him and they had a big argument. I guess the guy thought that she was his girl, but Truman really liked Evelyn and he wouldn’t back down. After he’d taken her out on a couple of dates, the other guy set him up.”
“Set him up how?” Amanda shivered with a sudden chill, and pulled her cardigan closer around her.
“He made it look like Truman was cheating on the final exam, and made sure the professor caught him. With all the evidence against him, he didn’t stand a chance and he got booted out of school. It was completely messed up, and it kind of broke Truman. He just wasn’t the same after that.”
Truman had always been a bit of a puzzle to Amanda, and now some of the pieces were starting to fall into place. She wasn’t certain how he’d gone being from a star student in pharmacology school to a little Oregon beach town selling bikes, but like everyone else, the story of his life, including the disasters, had shaped him. Amanda had a sneaking suspicion she knew who had set up Truman for failure.
“Was the other guy Anderson Bowles?” Before the words were even out of her mouth, she knew what the answer would be.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
Her heart pounding in her ears, Amanda had to ask the burning question. “Whatever happened to the girl Anderson was dating?” she asked.
“Um, he took her out on a couple of dates and then she dropped out of school and moved away somewhere. I don’t really know.” Allen said, as if pulling from a distant memory.
By the time they chatted some more and Amanda had hung up her phone, she felt sick in the pit of her stomach and headed for the kitchen to make some toast. If what Alan said was right, then Anderson Bowles wasn’t only a date rapist, as if that wasn’t horrible enough, but he was also the man that had ruined Truman’s chances for a career to graduate college and start a good-paying career a pharmacist.
Vengeance was a classic motive for murder, whether it was to avenge a wrong love or to get back at someone who had done something terrible. Unfortunately, it looked like Truman had both reasons to hate Anderson Bowles.
Chapter 18
There was something comforting about the smell of the Ravenwood Tide newspaper office. Maybe it was the years of clean paper and fresh ink, or maybe it was the old leather office chairs that Lisa still used, but whatever it was Amanda always felt welcome when she walked in the door.
Lisa looked up in surprise, her fingers hovering over the keyboard to her laptop, a cup of cold tea sitting beside her. As usual, Lisa was the only one in the office, running the little local paper completely by herself.
“Hey, ‘Manda. I didn’t expect to see you here. What’s up?”
Amanda plopped down into the chair next to Lisa’s desk. “I wanted to go over the full-page ad for the Harvest Festival and thought I’d come down and do it in person.” Just as she was about to continue, Amanda heard a soft mewing sound from under Lisa’s desk. Her eyebrows raised, she looked at her friend, the question unspoken.
Lisa grimaced, obviously not happy that her secret had been found out. “I have a few guests that I’m taking care of right now,” she said. She reached under her desk, pulling out a basket with a fleece blanket tucked in the bottom. Amanda looked over the edge of the basket. Inside were three wriggling kittens, one black and two with gray stripes, and all so tiny they looked like their eyes had just opened.
“I thought you were more of a non-pet person,” Amanda said. She was surprised, since she remembered that Lisa had told her she’d never own an animal, that they were too much work and too smelly and that she was happier just being by herself. Amanda picked up one of the little balls of fur, who busily began trying to chew her fingers.
“Where did you get them?”
“Um, I’m just fostering them for a while,” Lisa hastily explained. “They were abandoned right outside my house and the weather’s started to get cold. What was I supposed to do, leave them there?” Amanda nodded in apparent sympathy, but inside she was laughing. She’d always known that Lisa’s serious exterior hid a very soft heart.
“The closest animal shelter wouldn’t take them. They said they were full and didn’t have the money to take any more even if they did have room. When they told me that if they didn’t get adopted out they’d have to euthanize them I decided to take care of them myself so-” she shrugged, “I guess I’m a foster mother. Have to feed the little beggars almost constantly.”
Amanda grinned, even as the kitten was still trying to make hamburger of her pinkie finger. “They’re adorable! What are you going to name them? Are you going to keep any?”
Lisa scoffed and tucked the basket under her desk. “Me? Keep cats? Can you imagine?”
Yes, Amanda certainly could imagine. She’d be surprised if every one of those kittens didn’t have a name and its own food dish by the end of the week.
Back to business. “So, I’m stopping by to make sure you’re happy with the ad copy.”
Lisa swiveled her laptop around so Amanda could see the advertisement fullscreen. “I think it looks great, but I made some of the font size a bit bigger so it would be bolder. Does this work for you?”
Amanda said it did, paid Lisa, and got the receipt so she could show the merchant’s association that their money was well-spent.
“Oh, one last thing. The library’s having a bake sale to raise money for the book fund. What do you want to bring?”
Lisa swiveled her laptop back around toward herself and scowled. “Bake sale. You ever had anything I’ve cooked? How about I bring some Nutter Butters?”
Amanda laughed. “You can’t bring Nutter Butters. The flyers all say that the stuff for sale is homemade. I’ve had your Trainwreck Pie. How about bringing that? It was delicious.”
; Lisa looked surprised. “Are you crazy? Trainwreck Pie got that name because it looks like a train wrecked it. It’s butt ugly. I invented it one day because I had a bunch of extra fruit and I had a frozen pie crust in my freezer, left over from a previous roommate. I smashed it all together and stuck it in the oven.”
Amanda pulled the little kitten off her finger and tucked it back into the basket with its siblings. “Well, I liked it and I didn’t think it was ugly. Looks kind of like a cobbler and besides, it’s probably really healthy with all that fruit. Can I sign you up for that?”
Lisa sighed in defeat. “Sure. But if people gripe about its appearance I am totally blaming it on you.”
“Deal.” As Amanda was jotting Lisa’s name down on her list of bakers, she had the feeling her friend was studying her carefully.
“Amanda?”
“Uh-huh,” she responded noncommittally as she finished writing Lisa’s name.
“What’s going on with the investigation?”
Amanda looked up, surprised. “I can’t really talk about it.”
“You mean you can’t talk about it with me.”
Amanda sighed. There it was. “No, I can’t,” she replied gently, hoping she wasn’t going to offend her friend. “I made a promise.”
“Is this because of the newspaper?”
“Kind of, but I also promised I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone. I’m not trying to be a jerk about it, honest.”
Lisa looked at her silently, apparently calculating. Finally, she said, “I understand. A promise is a promise.”
“Not mad?”
“No, I’d do the exact same thing. Just let me know when you can tell me more about the investigation, okay? Even if I can’t print everything, I’m dying to know if they’ve focused on a suspect yet, and no one’s coming out publicly with the status of the case, so people have been pretty much kept in the dark.”
DUNE, DOCK, and a DEAD MAN: A Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mystery Page 9