by Lynn Cahoon
“Me neither, but there’s one thing you all aren’t taking into account.” Cat paused as she made sure she had everyone’s attention. “Danielle’s killer is still out there. So you shouldn’t go off playing detective and stirring up trouble.”
“Way to put a buzzkill on the party,” Cora said. Everyone turned toward her and then laughed at her pouty face. “We’ll stop the face-to-face accusations. But this is an interesting situation. Can we talk about who could have killed Danielle? This is just like living through one of those old Hart to Hart shows.”
“Who?” Confusion filled Jessi’s face.
Cora shook her head. “Never mind, child. I keep forgetting you are at least twenty years younger than the rest of us.”
“Speak for yourself,” Lisa said. “I’m thinking I’m more like Jessi’s older sister.”
“Whatever.” Connie jumped into the teasing.
And with that, Cat realized that Jessi had been adopted by the group. They wouldn’t let her history change how they felt about her. She’d been admitted into their club. Cat took out a notebook and started writing down the ideas that the retreat guests were bringing to the table.
CHAPTER 9
“You did what?” Uncle Pete sat at the kitchen table glaring at Cat. He’d been in the same spot when Cat and the retreat guests had returned from their outing around three. During the walk back, they’d helped Connie brainstorm her new book. They’d had two rounds of drinks and had listed off all the possible reasons they could think of that would have gotten Danielle killed. Of course, some of them were less than practical. But Cat thought her uncle might want to at least look at the list before he started to lecture her.
“We brainstormed reasons for Danielle to have been killed. What’s wrong with that?”
He held out a beefy hand. “Do you want me to list just the top ten? First of all, you were in Bernie’s, and we know he’s connected. You’re lucky he didn’t pick up the phone and call in one of the family members to handle you. They don’t like people ‘brainstorming’ the reasons behind a kill.”
“You really think the family is responsible for Danielle’s death? Isn’t strangulation a little too personal for a hit murder?” She didn’t blink as she stared at him.
Uncle Pete, on the other hand, squirmed in his chair. Apparently, she did have him on the ropes, if just for a little bit. “Anyone could have come into the bar and overheard you. Like the killer, for example.”
“No one came into the bar. So that’s off the list.” She grabbed a loaf of bread and the jar of peanut butter and brought them back to the table. “I’m starving.”
“You’re drunk.” His tone was flat like his eyes as he watched her.
Cat shrugged. “Tipsy, not drunk. Besides, last I looked at my driver’s license, I’m legal to drink nowadays.”
“Not the brightest thing to do when you have a retreat group in and there’s a killer on the loose.” Uncle Pete’s eyes bored into her.
“You have Seth watching out for me. It was daytime.” Cat spread a thick layer of peanut butter on the bread slice, folded it in half, and took a huge bite. “Peanut butter is a gift from the gods.”
“I could always tell when you’d been out drinking as a kid. The kitchen would be ransacked and all the bread would be gone.” Uncle Pete smiled. “Hand it over, I want one too.”
She did as she was instructed, and for a minute, neither one of them spoke, enjoying the shared moment. Then she stood and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Humor me and look at the list. I’d hate to know we nailed the suspect with our little brainstorming session but he got away because you were afraid that he might try something bigger than what we imagined.”
He glanced down at the list Cat handed him. “I’ll check some of these out. Can I assume your group is done investigating?”
She thought about the scene at the gym. “God, I hope so.”
Uncle Pete burst out laughing. After a few minutes, he wiped the tears from his eyes and shook his head. “Now you know how I feel every time you go off on a hunt for a killer.”
She pointed her butter knife at him. “Just to be fair, I typically try to figure out what’s going on, I don’t go looking for killers. They just seem to find me. That’s not my fault.”
“If you didn’t go around asking questions—” His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of its holder. “Never mind, I’ll save the lecture for another day. Chief Edmond here.”
She put away the bread and peanut butter and pulled out Shauna’s calendar for next month’s retreat. The booking was full. Cat wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep a full house of writers each month, but for now, the side business was doing well. And the money had almost paid for all the house renovations. Life was good. Well, except the fact Danielle had been killed. She wondered what theories her uncle was already exploring in the case. She glanced up as he put his phone away. “You have to go?”
“Yes. There’s been another incident at the school. I’m beginning to think this doesn’t have anything to do with the fraternities. We might have a real problem on our hands.” He tucked the paper into his pocket. “Do me a favor and keep the group in control, at least for the next day or so. I’d hate to lose someone just because they went snooping up the wrong tree.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Cat was beginning to sober up but thought maybe she should just go up to her room and watch one of her shows she had recorded.
He slipped his hat on. “Tell Shauna and Seth hello. It’s weird not seeing them here in the kitchen. Did they leave for something?”
“Actually, Seth’s out working in the back.” Cat glanced at the empty whiteboard. “Shauna must be up in her room. She didn’t check out on the board.”
“I’m glad you’re finally doing something with that old pasture. I’m sure if you clean it up some, you’d be able to sell the lot to a builder. People are always looking for land in this area.” Uncle Pete paused at the door.
“Seth’s doing something. I don’t know what. Besides, I’m not really anxious about selling. I’d rather keep a hold of it just in case there’s a rainy day later on.” After Uncle Pete left, Cat stared out the window onto the backyard. The back lot was shaded from view by a row of trees that lined the official backyard of the house. Michael had said the extra lot they owned behind the house had originally been for the household animals, and there was a barn on the edge of the property. The place was interesting with lots of history, which was one of the reasons she’d campaigned to purchase the house, although it had needed a lot of work then and even more now. “What are you doing out there, Seth Howard?”
As if she’d conjured him by calling his name, he appeared at the end of the tree line. She watched as he came toward her, and about halfway across the yard, he looked right into her eyes. The smile on his face widened. He’d definitely seen her inside the window, watching him.
He came in the back door and paused at the sink to wash his hands. “What are you doing today?”
“Trying to keep the guests from playing detective.” She held up the coffeepot. “Want some?”
“Actually, I’m going to have some iced tea. It’s a little warm out there today.” He grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and paused. “Can I pour you a glass?”
“Sure.” She put her empty coffee cup in the sink and sat down at the table. “What exactly are you doing out in the extra lot?”
Seth set the tea in front of her and then sat next to her. “I’ve told you, it’s a secret.”
“I’m not sure I can deal with more secrets. It’s been a little crazy around here since I moved back.” Cat leaned her head on her arm and watched him.
He glanced around the empty room. “You can’t tell Shauna, but . . .”
The door to the kitchen banged and Shauna strolled in, carrying a basket of towels to fold. “What can’t she tell me?”
Seth straightened and looked at his watch. “Crap, I told Bernie I’d come by today and give him an estimate on bui
lding a patio behind the bar. I’ve got to run.”
Cat and Shauna watched as he bolted out of the house and jumped into his pickup parked by the house. Shauna dumped the clean towels on the table and started folding. “So that was weird. What’s up with your boyfriend?”
“I have no idea.” Cat helped Shauna with the laundry, then excused herself to go upstairs to her office. Maybe she could find some information on this Max guy who had been cheating on Jessi with Danielle. She still needed to talk to him, but today, she was heeding her own advice and staying out of the investigation. At least, the in-person interviewing part, she amended the statement as she powered up her computer.
Two hours later, she stood and stretched. Max Trandor was as straight as a rod, at least in his on-line persona. No weird Facebook posts. No over-the-top antics at Covington. Basically, the kid had been an average student in a few clubs. Not the type to get into Harvard on his works, but maybe for the special Covington kids, there was a secret handshake. Her stomach growled. Time to put this away and go eat.
When she got downstairs, Jessi was pulling on her jacket. “Dinner plans?” Cat asked.
“Actually, no. Cora mentioned seeing a pair of earrings like the ones I lost last week in the pawnshop down on Main. They went shopping after we left Bernie’s, but I didn’t feel like it, so I came back here to try to write.” Jessi flipped her hair out of her jacket. “I’m so wired on all of this stuff, I’m not sure I’ll be able to write again. So anyway, I’m heading there and then meeting the gang at Reno’s. If Danielle pawned my earrings, I’m going to kill her.”
The words hit her as soon as she said them, and Jessi sank into the bench by the door.
“It’s okay, it’s natural not to remember you’ve lost someone.” Cat thought of the conversations she’d had with Linda Cook after Linda lost her husband. Sometimes, she’d get so caught up in a story, she’d forget that Tom wasn’t coming home. Not this time. “It takes time.”
“I was so mad at her right then.” Jessi wiped away tears. “Mad because of some stupid earrings, but my grandmother gave me those hoops. I’ve lost a lot of items over the years, but I was kicking myself for losing those.”
“I’ll go with you.” Cat patted Jessi’s shoulder. She thought the odds were pretty high that they would probably find Jessi’s missing earrings up for sale at the shop. And if that was true, she might need Uncle Pete’s help to get them back. “I need the walk anyway.”
As they walked the few blocks into town, Jessi seemed lost in her thoughts. She needed to grieve the loss of her friend, but finding out about Danielle’s secret life kept getting in the way.
“Do you know if they’re going to have a memorial service for Danielle?”
“I haven’t heard. I haven’t even called her folks. What kind of friend am I? I should have called her folks.” Jessi took a deep breath. “My emotions are all over the place. Mom thinks I’m still grieving losing my father, but I don’t really think it’s that. He wasn’t around much, and when he was, well, things were difficult.”
“I’ll stay with you when you get back if you want company while you call Danielle’s parents.” They turned on to the sidewalk for Main Street. The town looked like typical small-town America, except the streets were almost empty. Most of the townsfolk had finished their shopping chores and returned home to cook dinner. Reno’s Pizza was across the street from where they currently stood as they waited for a car to pass before crossing the street.
Jessi strolled into the crosswalk and then back on the sidewalk, not even pausing at the restaurant where her friends sat near the front waiting for her. Through the large window, Cat could see Connie reviewing the menu, and Cora was animatedly chatting about something to Lisa. Kelly stared out the window, but she didn’t even see Jessi and Cat as they passed by. Typical writer, Cat thought, lost in her head while the world is spinning around her.
“No, I can do it myself. I’m just beating myself up for not thinking about it earlier. Danielle and I were tight, even if she made some bad decisions.” Jessi paused in front of the door to Randy’s Pawnshop. The neon sign read Cash for Anything of Value. “Hopefully, stealing from me wasn’t one of her bad decisions.”
Cat followed Jessi into the room and was overwhelmed by the selection of items for sale. Guns, rifles, drums, flutes, guitars, and, as she followed Jessi farther into the store, jewelry. The store smelled of old leather, and as she passed by a hand-tooled leather saddle, she reached up to stroke the fine surface. Maybe she could find Shauna a place that rented horses to ride. She’d need a saddle, and this one looked perfect. She was still lost in the planning of the gift when she heard Jessi’s muffled cry.
Looking up, she’d expected to see Jessi being carried off in some big thug’s arms, but instead, she found her staring at a glass counter. “What is it?”
“My earrings. And the necklace I thought I’d lost at the park. And that’s my bracelet. I thought it was in my jewelry box.” Joy filled the girl’s face as she pointed out more items that belonged to her. “I thought these were gone forever.”
“The question is, how did they get here?” She dialed her uncle’s number. “Hey, I’m at Randy’s Pawnshop. Can you come down? We have a problem.”
The clerk on duty frowned as he overheard her conversation. When Cat put the phone away, he stepped closer to the counter. “May I help you with something?”
“Who sold you these pieces?” Cat pointed out several items that Jessi had already identified.
“I’m not at liberty to release that information. We take our clientele’s privacy concerns very seriously here at Randy’s.” He narrowed his eyes and repeated, “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, there is. Basically, these are all stolen items.” Cat held up her phone. “I’ve already called Chief Edmonds, and he’ll be here in a few minutes to help sort this out.”
“I assure you, if the items in question had been stolen, they would have been on our listing, or once they came into our possession, we would have reported as soon as the stolen property report came from the police department. We got no such reports on these items. I handle that process myself.” He opened the cabinet with a key. “Which items are supposedly yours?”
Jessi pointed out a total of twelve pieces. Then she grinned at Cat. “My mom’s going to be so happy we found these. I’m glad you came with me.”
“There’s a protocol for returning property to its rightful owner.” The man straightened one of the ring boxes. “You have to prove the items are yours.”
“No probs. I’ll have my lawyer fax over the insurance description sheets.” Jessi ran a hand over the blue and silver bracelet closest to her. “This has totally made my day.”
When Uncle Pete came into the store, he had the clerk bag up the items and write out a receipt. “Jessi, you go back to the dorm room and make sure there’s not anything else missing. If there is, have the insurance company send me the pictures of that as well. We might still be able to trace the sales of anything that’s not here.”
“Who sold this to you?” Cat pinned the clerk with a look. “Do you have records?”
“Of course we have records, but we will be releasing that information to the proper authorities, not some woman off the street.” The guy tried to pull off a proper butler sniff, but it didn’t come across as haughty as he’d expected.
“George, just go get the receipts. My niece may not be law enforcement, but she’s smart enough to know you have some information we need to solve this little situation.” Uncle Pete stared down the guy and finally, George twitched.
“Fine, but Arnold’s going to be upset about this whole thing. We’re following all the rules. It’s not our fault that she never reported the items stolen.” He turned on his heel and stomped back through the opening that must hold the office.
“Who’s Arnold?” Cat leaned against the counter and glanced at the selection of saddles. They might not want to sell to her after she caused this upheaval. But then ag
ain, a sale was a sale.
“He’s the owner.” Uncle Pete took all the smaller bags filled with jewelry and put them in a large plastic bag.
“Wait, I thought it was owned by some guy named Randy.” She glanced up at the banner over the counter announcing Randy’s twenty-fifth-year celebration and sale next month.
“It was. Years ago. Arnold bought it in the early nineties, I think. It was right after Randy died.”
“From an illness?” Cat had never heard this story before. But then again, she’d never been in the pawnshop before today.
Uncle Pete shrugged. “I think it was cancer. I don’t really know.”
“It’s nice that the new owner kept the name of the place.” Cat glanced over at Jessi, who was sitting on a bench, talking to her mother on the phone. “She’s hurting. And every time we learn something new about the girl she thought she was her friend, she gets another cut.”
“It’s a sad fact that secrets tend to come out when we’re investigating a murder. This might have nothing to do with who killed Danielle, but I’m glad we could get at least some of the jewelry back to her. The girl seems sweet.” Uncle Pete stopped talking when George came back into the room. “You got the records?”
“Mostly. I guess Arnold didn’t ask for a driver’s license for the seller. Which is normal if he knows the guy. Maybe I should call him.” George glanced at the phone on the counter like it was a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.
“Let’s just look and see what you do have. Then you can call Arnold and let him know I’ll be over at his house in a few minutes.”
George sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”
When he turned the card toward Uncle Pete, Cat read the name. Ernest Hemingway.
“Well, at least our thief is well read.” Cat glanced at the signature. “But it looks like he almost signed his real name. Does this look like a ‘K’ to you?”
“It’s definitely not an ‘E.’ ” He slipped the cards into a different evidence bag. “Anything else I should know, George?”