A Grid For Murder

by Casey Mayes

  “I won’t,” I said. “I enlisted someone else to help me in my cause.”

  “Really?” he asked as he got out the saltine crackers and the cheddar cheese. “Who’s playing Watson to your Sherlock Holmes?”

  “Rob Hastings,” I said as I checked the chili again. It was almost ready.

  “I would love to know how that came about,” Zach said.

  “Think about it, Zach. Who knows more about what’s going on in town than Rob does? I mean, besides Barbara Brewster.”

  He nodded as he sliced off a few pieces of cheese. My husband was a purist when it came to his chili, but I liked to add a dollop of sour cream to mine—something he frowned upon but had finally stopped commenting about. “That’s a good point. Was it tough convincing him to help you?”

  “As a matter of fact, he dove right in,” I said as I served the chili in nice ceramic bowls we’d picked up on a trip to Charlotte once.

  “No offense, Savannah, but why would he be so eager to give you a hand? I know you two are friends, and I heartily approve, but he should have more motivation to stick his neck out than because he likes you.”

  “I was surprised, too, but because of something I haven’t told you about yet. It seems that Joanne was best friends with Rob’s late wife, Becky, before she died. Rob thinks Becky’s death is what turned Joanne so sour to the world. He told me that he’d always held out some hope that Joanne would someday recover from her foul mood, and I think he was angry that she didn’t get the chance.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll buy that. Did you two have any luck? I’d be interested in getting Rob’s take on all of this, since he knows the principals better than we ever will.”

  I nodded as we sat down at the kitchen table to eat. “The first thing we did was speak with Greg Lincoln and Hannah Reed.”

  The names clearly surprised him. “I know Rob must have had a reason to interview the two of them, but I can’t imagine what it could be.”

  “Believe me, I was surprised, too. Evidently Rob saw Greg arguing on the street with Joanne a few nights ago. It turns out that the two of them were dating, and they had a fight about something. From what Rob said, it was all pretty intense.”

  Zach stopped eating and frowned at me, so I asked him, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m having trouble picturing Greg and Joanne together,” he admitted. “It’s not an obvious match, is it?”

  “Take my word for it and stop before you can picture it,” I said, and then took another bite. Despite the frequency of having my husband’s chili, it honestly was pretty good. “The toughest part is not picturing it once it’s stuck in your head.”

  “I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead, then.” He took another bite, and then asked, “Did he say what they were fighting about?”

  “Greg claimed that they’d had a little tiff, and that they had them all of the time, so it was no big deal.”

  Zach took a bite of chili, and then asked, “Did you believe him?”

  “No,” I said flatly. “His whole story sounded rehearsed to me.”

  He nodded. “I trust your instincts. What about Hannah? What possible reason could she have for killing Joanne?”

  “We went to see her at her shop, and she told us she believes that Joanne ran her son out of Parson’s Valley, though Rob told her point-blank it wasn’t true. Apparently he’s been corresponding with Wes on the Internet, and Hannah’s son claims he’s happy in New York.”

  “But Hannah didn’t buy it?”

  “Not only didn’t she believe him, the woman practically threw us out when Rob said it.”

  Zach nodded. “That might bear looking into as well. She sounds pretty touchy about the whole thing. Is there anything else to share tonight?”

  “That taps me out. Now it’s your turn.”

  As I took a healthy bite of chili, Zach said, “Some of this I can’t tell you, but I can fill in some of the questions you are probably asking yourself about now. We spoke with Sandra, Laura, and Harry today ourselves. It turns out they all had grudges against Joanne.”

  “They actually admitted that to you and Captain North?”

  “Not exactly,” he said with a slight laugh. “They took turns talking to us about one another. It was one long afternoon and early evening of finger-pointing and cross accusations. To tell you the truth, it made me want to take a shower just to clean myself up after we were through. If that’s what friendship boils down to, I don’t know who needs it. Still, it was interesting to listen to them.”

  “I’m still waiting. What did you hear?”

  He took a last bite of chili, chased it with a sliver of cheese, and then drained the rest of his milk before he spoke again. “The gist of it is that Laura believes that Joanne stole something valuable of Sandra’s. Sandra thinks that Harry and Joanne were in some kind of real estate scam together. To wrap it all up, Harry pointed out that Laura Moon stands to inherit Joanne’s estate now that she’s gone.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked. “I didn’t even realize they knew each other that well.” A sudden thought struck me. “They aren’t related, are they?”

  Zach looked pleased with my conjecture. “It turns out that Laura was Joanne’s third cousin, and evidently, she’s the only one Joanne was willing to trust with her money, not that we can find much of an estate.”

  “There’s at least the house,” I said, remembering where Joanne lived. It wasn’t as nice as our cottage, but it was located in the middle of the town’s historic district, so it might be worth something on the real estate market.

  “Maybe, maybe not. We’re not sure if Joanne owned it free and clear, or if there’s a mortgage on it,” Zach said. “North’s got a forensic accountant going over Joanne’s books, so we should know something about that soon.”

  “Have you heard what the exact cause of death was yet? Poison is kind of a broad explanation, isn’t it?”

  “I’m really sorry, but I can’t tell you that right now.”

  I bit my lip, and then said as graciously as I could muster, “That’s okay. I understand.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Zach said as he picked up his empty bowl and glass and moved them to the sink, “I’m not allowed to say that we’ll have the results in the morning, and that it might just turn out to be a natural poison, instead of a manufactured one.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He grinned. “You know, it’s amazing how many toxic plants there are in our part of the world. I bet your friend at the Asheville Botanical Gardens could give you a list.”

  “Are you saying I should go see him?”

  “I’m not making any suggestions at all, Savannah, but if you were to make the trip, you might want to wait until we know something more concrete. But like I said before, I really can’t talk about it.”

  “Can you at least tell me if I’m still a suspect in Captain North’s mind?”

  He stretched, and then my husband said, “I can’t say what’s going on in her head, but if I were running the investigation and I didn’t know you, there wasn’t anything I learned today that would take your name off the list.”

  “Got it,” I said. “So, I need to keep a low profile while I’m digging, is that what you’re saying?”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Zach said. “That chili was excellent, but I feel like some dessert.”

  “Have anything in mind?” I asked as I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

  “Chocolate cake would be nice.”

  “I agree. I hope you feel like baking one, because I sure don’t.”

  My husband laughed, a sound I couldn’t ever imagine growing tired of. “I could, but then it would probably be inedible, wouldn’t it? Is there any chance the bakery in town is still open?”

  I glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly eight. “Not even close; Emma closes at four.”

  Emma Parson was descended from the folks who founded Parson’s Valley. She’d told me once over scones t
hat she’d inherited a good deal of land on her eighteenth birthday, along with a check that had more zeros than I was certain I’d ever see in my lifetime. She’d taken a small portion of it, gone to culinary school in Chicago, and then promptly come home to open her bakery. The town might have thought that was odd, but when she donated half her remaining fortune to the city of Parson’s Valley to be used exclusively for the benefit of its citizens, folks seemed to be willing to accept her even with all of her eccentricities. She told me once that she had held on to every square inch of the land she’d inherited, so she wasn’t as crazy as some might think. I loved hanging out with her, and if my waistline wasn’t constantly expanding from the contact, I might have seen her even more often than I did.

  “If we can’t go there, what are we going to do?” he asked, for a split second sounding like the petulant little boy he must have once been.

  “Why don’t I make pudding?” I asked.

  “No offense, but that’s not nearly as good as cake.”

  “We can go to the grocery store in town, or drive into Asheville for some. It’s up to you.”

  “Pudding sounds great,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “To be honest with you, I’m beat.”

  “So am I.” I laughed as I got the stand mixer out from its nook. “I thought you’d agree homemade would be better.”

  AFTER THE PUDDING WAS MADE AND CHILLING IN THE refrigerator, Zach and I walked outside to our front porch and sat in a pair of oak rocking chairs we’d bought the minute we’d moved in. It allowed us a view of some of our acreage and our garden, and at night, we could see the glory of the evening sky through the naked canopy of branches above us.

  I asked Zach, “What’s your plan for tomorrow, or do you have one yet?”

  “The toxicology results are supposed to be in by ten, so I imagine I’ll find a reason to be in Asheville around then. After that, we’ll just have to see where it leads us. North is willing to allow me to tag along for now, and I’m going to take advantage of it before she changes her mind. What about you?”

  “I thought I might take Barbara up on her offer to help me dig into this,” I said.

  “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  I shrugged, though I doubted he could see it in the darkness. “You said you wouldn’t mind if I kept any secrets about the case from you, and if it means clearing my name of suspicion, I can swallow a little pride and let Barbara have the upper hand with me.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, and to be honest with you, I wouldn’t do it,” Zach said softly. I couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but his tone of voice was enough to get my full attention.

  “Why not?”

  “We have to live in this town long after the investigation is over,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “Barbara Brewster’s help probably comes at too high a price for you to pay. Besides, you’re doing fine as it is.”

  “With Rob’s help today,” I said, “we got some folks to talk to us, but Barbara implied that we were considered outsiders, and without her, we wouldn’t discover anything, no matter how many questions we asked.”

  “Maybe not,” Zach said as he stretched out a little in his chair. “They were all certainly willing to speak with me today.”

  “Don’t forget, you were with a state police investigator,” I said. “That might be a factor, too.”

  “Maybe, but you have a way with people, Savannah. They’ll open up to you if you give them a chance.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said as a chill breeze came up. It was time to go back inside. “Tell you what,” I said as I stood, “I’ll serve the pudding if you start a fire.”

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” he said as we walked back in.

  I wasn’t sure what tomorrow might bring, but for the moment, I was determined to enjoy every moment I could with my husband. Life was too short not to grab the seconds that were presented, and I wasn’t about to squander a single one of them if I could help it.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE TO THE SMELL OF FRESHLY brewed coffee. When I opened my eyes, I saw that my husband was waving a mug of it near my nose.

  As I reached for it, he playfully pulled it away.

  “Hey, that’s not fair.”

  “It’s time to get up. You have a lot of digging to do today, remember?”

  I thought about my unofficial investigation and grabbed my robe as I climbed out of bed. Zach surrendered my coffee, and after I’d taken a large sip, I asked him, “Exactly how long have you been awake?”

  “You don’t want to know,” he said with a smile. He leaned down and kissed my forehead as he added, “I’m heading into Asheville. I’ll call you when there’s something I can’t tell you.”

  “I can hardly wait,” I said as he left.

  With Zach gone, I decided that the puzzle I’d been working on was going to have to wait. If I had to, I could get my syndicator to run one of the extras I submitted from time to time. Neither one of us liked to deplete the surplus on hand, but there were times when it couldn’t be helped. When things settled down with Joanne’s murder investigation, I’d do my best to build the supply back up to a comfortable level of puzzles, but in the meantime, I had more digging to do.

  The only problem I had was that it was hard to figure out where to begin. Though Rob and I had been fairly straightforward with our questioning so far, I’d hidden behind his status as a lifetime resident in town and the owner of one of Parson’s Valley’s most loved businesses. Would people open up to me about what they knew without Rob’s presence?

  It was time to find out, but first, I needed some space to think. We were close enough to town to walk to it in under thirty minutes if we weren’t in any hurry, and Zach and I liked to make the stroll sometimes on lazy Saturday afternoons when the weather was nice. It would be perfect today. As I started out, I noticed that most of the leaves had dropped from the trees, but a few stragglers still held on, hoping for promises of spring. I marveled at the beauty of the glory of the mountains we were surrounded by. In the other seasons, the framework of the peaks was hidden by a vast array of leaves, but as they dropped, the character underneath was suddenly revealed. Each time of year had its own charm for me, but none more than late autumn. When we’d lived in Charlotte, Zach and I had been close enough to visit the mountains whenever his job allowed it, which was never enough for me. I knew in my heart that I had been destined to live here at some point in my life, and though the way we’d gotten here had been horrific, I was happy to at least be where I belonged, with the man I loved. Enough of that, though. I needed to come up with a plan, and my steps were leading me closer and closer to the heart of Parson’s Valley.

  I was nearly to town, still with no idea who to approach next, when a pickup truck pulled up beside me. That in itself wasn’t all that odd—our area was populated with the vehicles, and Zach kept threatening to get one himself—but the man inside it surely was. It was one of the last folks I wanted to see at the moment, but someone I definitely needed to talk to.

  I just hoped I could get him to answer my questions.

  Chapter 8

  “CAN I GIVE YOU A LIFT?” HARRY PIKE ASKED ME FROM THE cab of his truck. It was at least twenty years old, and had gone through a hard life at that, with scrapes on its sides and a hood with more peeling paint than the original gray. I couldn’t imagine what the interior looked like, but it was hard to be all that choosy this time. Ordinarily I would have refused the offer as a matter of course, not because of Harry, but because once I started a walk, I liked to finish it. This time it was different, though. It would hopefully give me the perfect opportunity to get him to answer some of my questions.

  “That would be great,” I said as I climbed into the cab. I had no idea what condition the original material of the seats was in, since the entire bench seat was covered with an old blanket.

  “Where are you headed?”

  That was a good question. For some reason, Brewster’s B
rews popped into my head. “I thought some coffee might be nice on a chilly morning like this. Do you have time? I’d love to buy you a cup.”

  He laughed. “Savannah, it’s just a mile away. You don’t have to pay me for the lift.”

  “Then how about the company?” I said.

  “Fine, but only if we get it to go.”

  “Don’t you want to warm up a little inside? Or do you have a problem with Barbara?”

  Harry rubbed his chin, and I saw that he’d missed shaving today. In fact, the closer I looked at him, the more I realized that his entire appearance was disheveled. His eyes were reddened, and his hair hadn’t seen a comb in days, either. “How are you doing these days, Harry? Is everything okay at the nursery?”

  “We’ve still got trees for sale, if you’re in the market after that blow of a storm we had,” he said, “but the bedding plants are all gone. Things are finally starting to slow down a little, and I’ve got to tell you, I could use the rest.”

  We got to the coffee shop, and as Harry stopped the truck, I asked, “How would you like your coffee?”

  “Strong and black,” he said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Got it,” I said. I went into the shop, bought two coffees to go, and as I did, I looked around for Barbara. Normally at her post by the cash register, she was conspicuously absent at the moment. Was it because of me, or was I just being paranoid? I grabbed the coffees and went back outside, only to find Harry’s truck was gone.

  That was odd. Where would he go, knowing that I had coffee for him?

  I started to walk down the street when someone pulled up beside me. It was Harry.

  “I thought you skipped out on me,” I said as I got back into the truck after handing him his cup through the open window.

  “No, I figured I’d circle the block while I waited. Barbara hates it when people park in front of her shop. She’s threatened to sic the law on me more than once in the past.”

  “She wouldn’t have known if you’d been driving a parade float. She wasn’t in there.”

  He looked surprised by the news. “You don’t say. I didn’t think she ever left that post of hers where all of the action is.”