Sweet Friend of Mine (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 8)

by J A Whiting

  As Darren ran his hand over the cat’s soft black fur, a tear dropped from his eye. “Nice cat,” he murmured.

  Angie watched them for a minute.

  It was probably time to cross Darren off the suspect list.

  17

  Angie and Ellie were sitting at the kitchen table with cups of tea when Courtney came in from the back door. “What’s cookin’?”

  “Plenty.” Angie gestured to one of the empty chairs. “I’ll tell you the latest.”

  Courtney poured some tea and took a seat. Angie relayed the events of the day including the visit to the jewelry shop in Silver Cove and the visit of Darren’s friend and what was revealed.

  “It isn’t a whole lot, but I think the day has been helpful.” Angie added some cream to her hot drink.

  “Is Lottie a guest here?” Courtney asked. “Did she stay in Sweet Cove or go back to Boston?”

  Ellie shook her head. “She told me she’s staying with a relative over in the next town.”

  “She’s still around anyway. She seems like someone to watch.” Courtney looked up at the cats sitting in their position on the fridge. “What did the cats think?”

  Angie told her youngest sister that Circe curled in Darren’s lap which pointed to him being innocent of any wrongdoing. “Both cats seemed stand-offish with Lottie though. I don’t think they’ve made a decision about her.”

  Ellie carried a plate of mini-fruit tarts to the table and they each placed some of the goodies on their dessert dishes.

  “I still get the feeling that Darren is holding back about some things.” Angie bit into one of the tarts.

  Courtney took another one of the sweets and put it on her plate. “It’s possible that he didn’t hurt Ryan, but knows some things that he isn’t telling.”

  “That’s the impression I get.” Angie licked her index finger. “Where’s Mr. Finch? Is he at the candy store?”

  “It’s his afternoon to work late.” Courtney eyed the remaining tarts, but held back on the impulse to have any more. “I don’t know why I want to eat sweets when I get home. You’d think I’d be sick of sweets since I work in a candy store.”

  “I have to go do some errands,” Angie said. “I’ll stop in to see Mr. Finch. I want to update him about what we’ve found out and talk things over with him.” She looked at her sisters. “You want to come along?”

  “I’ll go.” Courtney stood up. “Rufus is back. I’m meeting him for dinner later this evening, but I have plenty of time to go with you. Just let me take a quick shower.”

  “Not me.” Ellie cleared the table. “I have two couples arriving this afternoon to check into the B and B. I need to finish making up their rooms. Would you get two boxes of candy for me? I need them as welcome gifts.”

  Angie met Courtney in the foyer where they put on their winter coats and headed out to Beach Street and up to the center of town.

  “You think we’ll get to go on this upcoming getaway to the ski place?” Courtney shoved her glove-covered hands into the pockets of her coat.

  Angie pulled her knitted hat down over her ears. “Doubtful.”

  “We can always postpone it,” Courtney sighed. “As soon as things settle down again though, we all need to bolt out of town and head for the mountains before anything else has a chance to happen. It’s the only way we’ll get to that ski resort.”

  Angie grinned. “We should all pack a suitcase and have them ready.”

  “Good idea,” Courtney said. “We should leave them right next to the front door for an easy escape.”

  “Or pack them in Ellie’s van.”

  The two chuckled as they turned onto Main Street.

  “Look, there’s Francine.” Angie pointed to a storefront positioned among the quaint Main Street stores just a few shops up from the candy store. Francine was a stained glass artist and she had a thriving business with a shop in Sweet Cove, a studio in Silver Cove, and an internet site to accept custom orders. “We haven’t seen her for weeks. We should stop in before we go home.”

  Light snow flurries danced in the air as the sisters headed to the small market in town to pick up some groceries and then walked to the candy store. Courtney brushed the snowflakes from her shoulders before stepping inside the shop.

  Courtney and Finch had hired a woman to work some late afternoons in the store. “I came in a few minutes early so Mr. Finch went home,” the woman told the sisters.

  “We’ll see Mr. Finch at dinner then.” Angie picked out the two candy boxes that Ellie asked her to bring home for the new B and B guests.

  They headed to Francine’s stained glass store and entered the beautifully-lit and decorated store. The shelves were lined with jewelry boxes, lamps, light-catchers, and decorative window ornaments made from the glittering, multi-colored pieces of glass.

  Francine’s emerald-green eyes sparkled when she saw Jenna and Angie. “I was just thinking about you two.” The middle-aged woman was slim and trim and had blonde hair that fell just above her shoulders. Francine exuded a warm, happy, welcoming energy that made the two sisters smile as hugs were shared between them. Francine made mugs of tea and they headed to the back room to sit on the sofa and chairs clustered around a small coffee table.

  “How have you been? Surviving this cold?” Francine smoothed the collar of her turquoise turtle-neck sweater. “I can’t wait for spring myself.”

  The women chatted about their businesses, the weather, and the surprisingly steady stream of tourists who still made their way to Sweet Cove even during the winter. The discussion turned to the missing young man.

  “It’s heart-wrenching, isn’t it?” Francine shook her head sadly. “I hope he’s found soon.”

  Angie and Jenna agreed.

  “My niece is staying with me for a few days.” Francine lifted the teapot and added some of the hot liquid to her mug. “She grew up with the boy.”

  “Really?” Angie’s interest piqued. “Did she go to school with him?”

  “They did. They were friends for years. She’s very upset about it.”

  “Is this your sister’s daughter?” Jenna asked.

  “Yes. We’ve been closer ever since my sister passed away several years ago.”

  “Had your niece kept in touch with Ryan Allen after high school?”

  “I think she did.” Francine pulled a cashmere throw blanket over her knees. “They knew each other from grade school through high school. A few of the kids were tight friends due to their love of music. My niece once described Ryan as the sweetest person she knew. I think he was one of her very best friends.”

  Angie rested her mug on the coffee table. “Did she mention anything that might have been going wrong with Ryan? An argument with someone? Any sort of trouble?”

  “We haven’t had a lot of time to chat about it, but she seems mystified about him going missing.” Francine’s face took on a serious expression. “How do things like this happen? Imagine his poor parents? I know the family, we’re not friends, but we were often at school events and sports things so we became acquainted.”

  “So you know Ryan?” Angie’s eyes widened.

  “My daughter, Juliet, was a year ahead of Ryan in school. Juliet loved musical theatre so their paths crossed quite a bit. She thought Ryan was a great kid, friendly, easy to get along with, a wonderful musician. Just from the few times Ryan was around our house, I was convinced that Juliet was right about him. He was an extremely likable young man. Juliet cried when I called to tell her that he’d gone missing.”

  Jenna asked, “Did you know Darren Wilton?”

  Francine smiled. “Oh, sure. Another nice young man. I was happy to hear he’s had some musical success. My niece is good friends with him as well.”

  When she heard this last comment, things clicked in Angie’s head. “What’s your niece’s name?”

  “Charlotte. We call her Lottie.”

  “We’ve met her.” Jenna smiled. “She was at the B and B. Darren’s a guest at the Victo
rian. Lottie was visiting him.”

  “Small world.” Francine offered the girls more tea.

  Angie wanted to get Francine’s thoughts about several people so she began by asking, “What do you think of Mr. and Mrs. Allen? What are they like?”

  Francine took some time to ponder the question and Angie got the feeling that she was choosing her words carefully.

  “Donna’s a nice woman. She’s quiet. I don’t believe that she’s ever worked outside the house. Somehow I got the impression that she didn’t have many friends. Donna kept to herself a lot, would stand to the side at sporting events or musical things at the school. I always thought that maybe she was shy.”

  “And Mr. Allen?” Jenna asked.

  “Bob was the opposite. Maybe that’s why they ended up together.” Francine seemed to force a smile.

  Angie wanted Francine to tell more. “So Mr. Allen was the opposite of shy?”

  Francine seemed to stiffen slightly. “Shy certainly isn’t a word that anyone would use to describe Bob Allen.”

  “He’s outgoing?” Angie asked.

  Francine looked Angie in the eye. “Outgoing isn’t the right word either.”

  “You sound like you don’t care for him.” Angie raised an eyebrow to encourage her friend to share what she thought.

  Francine sighed and pushed a stray strand of her hair to the side. “I don’t want to speak ill of anyone especially now with what that family must be going through.” She waved her hand in the air. “Ugh. I don’t like Bob Allen. He’s full of himself, tries to make himself seem important. He was always bragging about his military service … sometimes I got the impression that he still thought he was in the military. He seemed to keep a tight rein on his wife and his son.” Francine narrowed her eyes. “He also liked flirting with women. He was inappropriate on more than one occasion. I told Juliet to stay away from him. I didn’t trust that man. Once, Juliet told me that she saw Bob Allen strike his son. It was after a high school musical performance. My daughter couldn’t hear everything that was said, but she felt like Bob was furious that Ryan was playing for the show. The way Juliet described it made my skin crawl. I’m sure it wasn’t the first time that man struck his child.”

  As Jenna and Angie exchanged quick glances, they heard the front door of the stained glass shop open.

  “I’d better go see to the customers.” Francine stood up. “Stay, if you have time.”

  Jenna and Angie stood up. “We’d better get going.” They thanked Francine for the tea and walked with her to the display room.

  “Next time, let’s only talk about pleasant things.” Francine hugged the sisters and promised to visit the bake shop soon.

  The girls stepped out to the sidewalk and into a flurry of snowflakes. Before they could start to discuss what they’d heard from Francine, Angie’s phone buzzed and she retrieved it from her coat pocket.

  Angie stopped dead in her tracks and raised her eyes to her sister. “It’s Chief Martin. He wants all of us. Now.”

  18

  The sun was low on the horizon and the bare trees made long shadows across the ground as Ellie pulled the van to the side of the road. None of the five people in the vehicle had spoken a word on the drive to Mission River. The two cats sat quietly on the backseat watching the scenery pass by.

  Police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck were parked haphazardly on the dirt road that meandered alongside a field and ended near the river. Light snow was falling and under other circumstances, would have made the wooded area look like a fantasyland, but instead it only emphasized the cold, wet, empty feeling that had settled over everyone.

  Official-looking people hurried about erecting lights, some clustered in groups talking, and a few others held cameras they would use to photograph the scene. A few men and women wore wet suits and stood close to the edge of the water next to an inflatable raft.

  “Maybe it isn’t him.” Ellie sat in the driver’s seat watching the commotion through the windshield.

  No one replied. They all knew it was him.

  “Here comes Officer Talbot.” For a few moments, Angie watched the man approach the van and then, with a sigh, she pushed the van door open and got out.

  The others followed, leaving the cats in the vehicle to watch the proceedings through the windows.

  The officer nodded to the family. “The chief would like you to come over now.”

  Ellie, her oval face pale above the bright red of her coat, clutched Jenna’s arm. “Stay with me,” she whispered to her sister. Jenna could feel Ellie shaking.

  Courtney held Mr. Finch’s arm as they slowly made their way over the frozen bumps in the dirt road.

  Behind them, from the van, they heard Euclid let out one long, mournful howl.

  “Why don’t you wait here?” Officer Talbot gestured to a spot about a hundred yards back from the investigation area. “Chief Martin will be right over.”

  “Thank heavens we don’t have to get any closer.” Ellie slid her arm through Jenna’s and drew her sister closer.

  A group of men pushed a stretcher up the incline from the river. A form could be seen on the gurney covered over with a sheet and strapped to it with black belts. The stretcher’s wheels caught in one of the frozen ruts and lurched, shaking the body’s arm loose. It dropped over the edge of the stretcher and moved a little, back and forth, as the men forced the wheels over the ground and up to the waiting ambulance.

  The body’s white hand stuck out from the sleeve of a winter jacket and Angie was sure she could see the fading sun glint off of a ring on one of the fingers. She knew it was Ryan Allen.

  Chief Martin shuffled over to the family, his shoulders stooped and his face as red as a beet. His eyes were heavy with sadness. “It has to be confirmed, but we agree that it’s the missing young man.” The chief coughed to clear his throat. “Thanks for coming out. Would you mind stepping over closer to the river now that the body’s been removed? Maybe try to … pick up on anything?”

  Car doors and a few shouts were heard behind them and they all turned to see some officers trying to block the way of two people intent on advancing to the scene.

  Chief Martin groaned. “How did they find out? It’s the Allens.” He took a quick look to the ambulance and breathed a sigh of relief to see the vehicle pulling away. “See what you can pick up. I’ll talk to you later.” He hurried along the road to speak with the parents of the no longer missing young man.

  Angie’s heart clenched for the poor Allen family and she muttered, “I’m glad I don’t have the chief’s job.” She led the group to the edge of the dark, choppy river. The part of the river that was out of the strong current had frozen over. Reeds and grasses growing at the shoreline were encased in ice so clear they looked like glass.

  Blocking out the voices of the emergency personnel, the four Roseland sisters and Mr. Finch stood side by side at the river’s edge staring at the water. After ten minutes had passed, Ellie kicked at a large stone and sent it flying over the ice. She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Come on.”

  The others turned to her, surprised by the strength in her voice.

  “We need to figure this out.” The words caught in Ellie’s throat and a single tear traced down her cheek as she whirled around and headed to the van, determined that the family would uncover the reason why Ryan Allen’s short life ended by the desolate Mission River.

  Angie stood at the counter vigorously mixing ingredients together.

  Courtney eyed her sister. “Are you planning to bake that blueberry bread or kill it?”

  Angie sighed and put the wooden spoon on the kitchen island. “I’m taking out my frustration.”

  “Understandable. We all feel the same way.” Courtney sidled onto one of the stools.

  Mr. Finch entered the kitchen leaning on his cane. “May I have a glass of red wine?” He maneuvered onto the stool next to Courtney. “Or should I wait until dinner?”

  Reaching into the cabinet and removing t
wo wine glasses, Ellie’s long hair shimmered in the light. She carried the glasses and put them in front of Finch and returned carrying a wine bottle. “I’m joining you in a glass, Mr. Finch.” She poured a generous amount into the two glasses. “Anyone else feel the need?”

  Angie shook her head. “I need to keep my wits about me.”

  All eyes turned to Angie.

  “Why?” Courtney asked suspiciously.

  Angie threw back her shoulders. “I’m going to make this blueberry bread into a truth bread.” She took a quick glance at Finch. “Stay far away from the bread, Mr. Finch.”

  “Indeed, I will, Miss Angie. The headache I got from eating that truth muffin lasted for two days.” Finch nodded gravely. “Two whole days.”

  Courtney couldn’t suppress a snort and a smile recalling Mr. Finch’s misadventure caused by eating a muffin that Angie made intending that whoever consumed it would feel compelled to speak only the truth. She eyed her sister. “So you’re actually going to give this another try?”

  “Yes. Don’t talk to me as I mix. I need to focus and put the correct intention into this bread.” Angie picked up her spoon and after adding the final ingredients, she began to mix again.

  “I never thought I’d see this day.” Courtney put her chin in her hand and eagerly watched the process.

  “Never say never, Miss Courtney.” Finch raised his glass to his lips and sipped.

  The two cats trilled from their perch on top of the fridge.

  “Who are the intended victims?” Jenna stood at the stove preparing a pan of Mexican bean dip for dinner.

  Angie tipped the bowl and let the batter run into the bread pan. “Everyone I know.” Sensing the eyes on her, she said, “Present company excluded, of course.”

  Sighs of relief escaped the throats of the people in the room.

  “So Darren Wilton?”

  Angie reluctantly said, “Yes.”

  “Lottie?”

  “Yup.”

  “Who else?”

  “I’d like to get some slices of this bread into Mr. and Mrs. Allen and the friend, Henry Whitaker.” Angie looked from person to person. “But first … I need one volunteer.”