Tammy winked at me. “Suzanne, I believe that you found yourself a keeper there.”
“Don’t I know it, but don’t say it too loudly. I’d hate for it to go to his head.”
“I can hear you just fine,” Jake told us, clearly bemused by the turn our conversation had taken. “You both know that, don’t you?”
“Don’t pay us any mind,” Tammy said. “I’ll be right back in two shakes and a wiggle.”
After she’d gone to get us our drinks, Jake said, “She’s one of a kind, isn’t she?”
“She’s different, all right. You want to know something? I think you’re pretty special, too,” I said as I patted his hand. “I may not say it enough, but my life’s a lot more fun with you than it ever was without you.”
“I totally agree with that,” Jake replied as he looked around.
I looked at him closely as I asked, “Does that mean you understand that my life is better with you or that yours is better with me in it?”
He laughed. “Yes. To both questions. Here’s our food. It may not be great, but at least it’s fast.”
As Tammy served us, I asked her, “Have you heard about Snappy Mack?”
“Are you kidding? It’s all the town’s talking about.”
“It happened in my shop, Tammy,” I said softly, “and we aim to find out who did it. Can you give us a hand?” I was taking a chance trusting the waitress, but after all, I couldn’t go through life trusting only the folks I knew to the core. Being suspicious of everyone I met was no way to live, and I wasn’t going to settle for that watered-down version of life.
“I might,” she said grimly as she looked around to see who might be watching us. “Give me a minute and I’ll get back to you on that.” In a much louder voice, she added, “You two enjoy your food now, you hear?”
“We plan to,” I said just as loudly.
I looked over at Jake to see that his fork was poised over the mashed potatoes. He was doing his best not to smile and failing miserably at it.
“What are you grinning about?” I asked him.
“That was smooth. I like the way you talk to people, Suzanne.”
“I’m not doing anything all that special. I just open my mouth, and the words seem to spill out,” I said, cutting off a bite of the country-style steak and brushing it through the gravy. “Man, that’s tasty.”
Jake tried his as well and smiled. “Nice. I’d hate to know the calorie content of this meal, but whatever it is, it’s worth every bite.”
As we ate and chatted, we tried to keep our conversation off the contractor and his recent demise. Most of the time during our meal we spent listening to the idle speculation going on around us about who might have done it. It was reassuring that the main names I heard belonged to folks we already suspected of the crime, not that diner gossip anywhere could always be believed.
“Anyone want dessert?” Tammy asked as she came back to check on us. “We’ve got some fresh pie that’s delicious, and some cake that’s seen better days, but it still might be okay if you’re really feeling daring.”
“I’m stuffed,” I said as I pushed my plate away, “but feel free to have something if you’d like, Jake.”
“No, I’d better take a pass as well. We’ll just take the check, please.”
I started to say something when Tammy put it down in front of me before I could add another question about Snappy. I wasn’t sure how things worked in the rest of the country, but in the South, the men always got the bill first. If there was any splitting or divvying going on after that, it normally happened after the waitress left.
As a matter of habit, Jake started to reach for the bill automatically when Tammy said, “It’s been a pleasure.”
On a hunch, I flipped the ticket over and saw that there was a yellow sticky note attached to the bill. It said, “Talk to Meredith at the library.”
I pulled the sticky note off and handed the bill to Jake. “Thanks for lunch,” I said as I folded the note once and tucked it into my jeans pocket.
“My pleasure,” he said.
When we got to the register, Tammy was gone, though I half expected to see her there waiting for us, but she was nowhere to be found.
Jake asked the cashier, “Can you cash a hundred? I don’t know why the banks insist on giving them when you cash a check.”
“I do,” the woman up front said. “After all, it’s a lot easier to count out one bill than it is five or ten. Don’t worry, we mostly run a cash business here, so it won’t be a problem.”
Jake stuffed the twenties and odd ones into his wallet, and we walked outside into the brisk January wind.
“I thought Tammy would be out here waiting for us, but she’s nowhere in sight,” I said as I finally gave up my search scanning the café’s parking lot.
“Clearly she didn’t want anyone seeing us together,” Jake said. “I get it. Tensions are probably running pretty high around town right now. Do you know this Meredith woman at the library?”
“Our paths crossed a few times during my investigation of Aunt Jean’s murder,” I admitted. “She’s good people.”
“Then let’s go have a chat with her, shall we?”
Chapter 6
“Meredith, do you have a second? Do you remember me?” The librarian hadn’t changed much since I’d last seen her, tall and thin with the same wispy blonde hair, though her eyes were red from something. Jake had held back to allow me to get reacquainted and approach her on my own, at least at first.
“I’m not likely to ever forget you. How have you been, Suzanne?”
“All in all, I’ve been fine. You?”
“What can I say? The books come in and the books go out, but less and less of them every month.” She waved a hand around the nearly deserted space. A few folks were reading newspapers on long bamboo poles, there were at least four people napping in the warmth of the space, and one older woman was sitting quietly, knitting of all things, without a book in sight. “We’re trying to expand our ebook collection, but it’s a brave new world, isn’t it?”
“The way I look at it, reading is reading, whether it’s on paper, an ereader, a cell phone, or even if it’s written in the mud with a stick.”
“It would be difficult loaning those out,” she said with a laugh, “but I agree with your point. Now, what brings you to my library?”
“We were just speaking with Tammy at Burt’s,” I started when the librarian cut me off.
“You should know that you can believe about a third of what Tammy says. The trick is in knowing which third,” Meredith said.
“She told us we should speak with you about Snappy Mack’s death.”
“Murder, you mean,” Meredith said with a frown. “Why on earth are you interested in his demise?”
It managed to surprise me that word hadn’t gotten completely out, even though he hadn’t been found all that long ago. “It happened in my donut shop. That makes it personal in my book,” I admitted, something that gave me great discomfort.
“I’m so sorry,” she said instantly. “I heard he was killed on a job site in April Springs, but I didn’t put it together with you. Are you okay?”
“Not yet, but I will be. By the way, that man over there pretending not to notice us is my husband, Jake.”
“Well, he certainly doesn’t have to avoid being with us on my account. Bring him over.”
I motioned to Jake, and he came immediately. After introductions, I asked the librarian, “Why did Tammy think you might be of some assistance to us?”
“Oh, I thought she might have said something to you about why I care so much about what happened to Snappy. You see, he was my uncle.”
“Your what?” I asked a little too loudly for the woman knitting. She shushed me, frowned, and then went back to her project. �
�Sorry about that,” I added in a softer voice. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Snappy and I were close when I was growing up, but a distance had grown between us over the years. I’m pleased to say that all changed over the last four months. My uncle, never someone you could call a big reader, suddenly discovered the joy of books. It’s never too late, if you ask me, and we had a dozen late-night conversations about what he should read next. I’m sorry he’s gone, but at least we had that much to share in the end.”
“Do you have any idea who might want to see harm come to him?” I asked her.
“Do I ever. I could make you a list,” she said.
Jake asked her softly, “Would it include Sanderson, Madison, Deloris, and Hank?”
She looked at him as though he’d just grown another head. “Who exactly are you?”
“I figured she told you. I’m Suzanne’s husband,” he patiently explained.
“I already know that,” Meredith said dismissively. “What I’m talking about is, who are you?”
“I understand the question,” I said. “Jake is a retired state police inspector, and once upon a time, he was also the chief of police for April Springs.”
“But not in that order, I presume.”
“No, it happened in exactly that order,” I said. “Since your uncle died in my shop, I feel obligated to find out what happened to him.”
“We already know that, though, don’t we? Unless you believe that screwdriver wasn’t the fatal blow.”
I forgot I was speaking with a librarian, a woman who prided herself on her clear communication and the importance of words and their usage.
“What I meant to say earlier was that we want to find out who killed him.”
“I only wish I could help, but you’ve just named every suspect I can think of. Please find out who murdered Snappy, Suzanne. We lost so much time over the years that it’s criminal he was taken just when we’d managed to find a way to reconnect.”
“We’ll do our best,” I said. “It was great seeing you, Meredith.”
“And you as well. Don’t be strangers, though I suspect that shop of yours keeps you busy most of the time.”
“You have no idea,” I said with a smile.
Once we were outside, Jake asked, “I have a question that I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to like.”
“Fire away,” I said.
“Could she have done it?”
The idea shocked me. “Who, Meredith? No.”
“What exactly are you basing that on?” Jake wondered aloud. “Your emotions?”
“It’s not my heart telling me that she didn’t do it, it’s my gut. Meredith is mourning her uncle, and unless you can produce video showing her plunging that screwdriver into the man’s back, I’m going to continue believing that she’s innocent.”
“Because she’s so likeable?” Jake asked me softly. He was testing me, and what’s more, I knew it.
“No, we both know that killers can be extremely likeable sometimes,” I said. “If I have to quantify it, I couldn’t begin to do so. All I know is that she’s not on my list until I find out something that says otherwise.”
Jake nodded. “That’s good enough for me, then. Just remember, we both need to keep an open mind though, no matter how much we might personally like a suspect.” After a moment, he added, “She’s about the only one likeable in the group, isn’t she? Snappy Mack certainly surrounded himself with some unlikeable people.”
“It sure seems that way to me,” I said. “What do we do now?” After a moment, I grabbed my husband’s arm and pulled him behind a tree.
“If you want to kiss me in the bushes, I heartily approve, but aren’t we a little too old to be acting like teenagers?” he asked me.
“Shh,” I said as I pointed to someone approaching the library on foot.
It was the chief of police for Maple Hollow, and I was going to do my best to duck Chief Kessler if there was any way I could manage it.
Jake and I stood there in the shadows of the trees, and after the police chief passed us and went inside, I said, “You know what? This might be a good time to go back home.”
“Why, because of the chief?” Jake asked. “He knows why we’re here, Suzanne.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he approves of what we’re doing,” I said.
“Still, it’s no reason for us to run and hide.”
“Jake, I know this goes against your grain, but we don’t want to rouse the man’s ire if we don’t have to. Why do you think he’s going to the library? Does he look like a big reader to you? I’m willing to bet that he’s going to talk to Meredith, and if he does, our names are going to come up.”
“So? We haven’t done anything illegal,” Jake said stubbornly.
“No, but we also don’t have any more clues to chase down here, do we? Unless you want to go by Snappy’s place and look around, that is.”
“Of course I do,” Jake said. “I was a cop too long not to believe in the power of physical evidence. I don’t have any idea where Snappy lived though, do you?”
“No, but we can always find out,” I said, reaching for my phone.
“Who are you calling?” Jake asked me.
“One of the best sources of information I know,” I said. “I’m calling Momma.”
“Do you think she’ll know?”
“Maybe not, but odds are good that she can find out quicker than we can,” I said as I hit my speed-dial.
Momma laughed when she heard my request.
“What’s so funny?” I asked her.
“Phillip assumed you’d be calling for that bit of information, so he’s already tracked it down for you.”
“Thank him for me, would you?” I asked. “Where did Snappy live?”
“You’re not going to believe this. Well, maybe you will, given what you’ve no doubt found out already. The place Sanderson is staying is in Snappy’s name, but he’s never lived there. It appears Snappy recently sold his main residence for a healthy profit and banked the cash. In the meantime, he’s been staying somewhere else.”
“Please don’t tell me it was with Madison Moore,” I said. I wasn’t sure I was ready to expose my husband to the woman again so soon.
“No, and he wasn’t staying with his son, either.”
“I give up, then,” I said, growing tired of the game we were playing. “Where was Snappy staying?”
“Apparently there’s an apartment above the office, so that’s where he’s been living for the past two weeks,” Momma said.
“The office? You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were, but it seems that’s what really happened. There’s a small bachelor pad up there, and that’s where he’s been living.”
“Thanks for finding that out, and thank Phillip for us as well.”
“How is your investigation going?” Momma asked hesitantly.
“You know how it is. The first part is usually the toughest. We’re still in the fact-gathering stages.”
“Well, take care of Jake, and have him do the same for you,” my overprotective mother said as if it were a memorized line spouted at each and every opportunity.
“You bet,” I said.
Jake looked at me with a grin after I told him the news. “He’s been staying at the office? Really?”
“Actually, there’s supposedly an apartment on the second floor, but I have no idea how we’re going to get in there to search the place, not with Hank Bloch working below it.”
“Maybe there’s an outside entrance that doesn’t go up through the shop,” Jake suggested.
“Hang on. Am I hearing this correctly? Are you actually willing to break in without first getting someone’s permission to sear
ch the place?”
“Suzanne, can you imagine for one second that both police chiefs haven’t already searched that place intensely? The least we can do is check it out while we’re here.”
“I’m thrilled you’re finally coming over to the dark side,” I said with a smile as we got into the truck and started driving back to the construction company.
“I haven’t done anything I shouldn’t have,” Jake said a little too stiffly for my taste. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.
“Yet, you mean,” I asked as I tweaked his arm lightly.
“Yet,” he agreed with the hint of a grin.
Jake was clearly right.
There was a rear stairwell behind the building that no doubt led up to Snappy Mack’s apartment.
There was only one problem, though.
The police tape across the bottom of the stairs might have been made from flimsy plastic, easy to cut with the dullest of knives, but for Jake, it may as well have been impenetrable steel.
That was one line that he was not about to cross.
“I don’t suppose you’d wait for me while I ducked under the tape and checked it out for myself, would you?”
“Sorry. That’s not going to happen,” he said in a voice that allowed no debate. If it had been Grace and me working together, I would have probably done it anyway, but though Jake brought his own particular enormous set of skills to my investigation, he was still a tad too law abiding for my taste.
It appeared that we’d have to wait to get permission to search Snappy’s bachelor pad later, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Chapter 7
We had been on the road five minutes heading back to April Springs when my cell phone rang, and it was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Is this Suzanne Hart?” the voice on the other end asked. It was a gruff man, and if I had to guess, I’d say that he was somewhere easily past middle age.
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