If Fried Chicken Could Fly

by Paige Shelton

  “Fine,” I said, swallowing the ridiculous emotions.

  “I hadn’t thought this might be too sad for you. You like him, don’t you?”

  “He’s a nice…ghost,” I said.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that, Betts. You need more people, even dead ones, in your life that you think are nice.”

  My cell phone buzzed.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “It’s Jim, Betts. I see your car across the street. Stop by my office when you can. I have something I want to tell you.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said. I hung up the phone and told Jake we’d meet again later. If Jim wanted to tell me something, I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity. Jake and Patches walked me to the door, watched me cross the street, and then locked the door again.

  “I barely hung up the phone,” Jim said as I came through the jail’s front doors.

  “Jake and I were done,” I said. I swiped a piece of hair off my forehead as casually as possible. I should have waited a minute but I was not good at containing my enthusiasm.

  “Hey, Betts,” Cliff said. He was sitting at his desk with his hands over his keyboard. Suddenly it seemed normal and right with the universe that Cliff Sebastian, former architect, former married guy, and my first love, had abandoned his previous life and was a police officer in our hometown. Whatever crazy puzzle of events ruled our lives seemed to come together, everything fitting as it should.

  “Hey, Cliff,” I said.

  “Come on over and sit down,” Jim said. “I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  He waited until I took a seat in the same chair I’d been in the night of the murder before he sat down, too. He looked at me a long moment, pushed up his glasses, and opened a file on the desk.

  “Something’s going on, Betts. I need you to be as honest with me as you possibly can, do you understand?”

  “Am I being questioned formally regarding the murder of Everett Morningside? If so, I’d like to request an attorney.” I couldn’t help myself.

  “No, Betts, you aren’t being questioned regarding the murder, well, not in a legal manner of speaking. I don’t think you killed anyone, but if I find evidence that you did I will arrest you. You’re more than welcome to an attorney. In fact, you didn’t even need to come over here, but here you are. Shall we continue?”

  I nodded. I’d have a friendly conversation with Jim, but I’d be on the phone to Verna if he acted like I or Gram was a prime suspect.

  “Good. Fine. Thank you.” Jim peered at the open file. “I think someone’s playing a trick on all of us.”

  “A trick?”

  “Yes. I just got the results on the ‘coins’ you found in Jerome Cowbender’s tombstone.”

  “And?”

  “They’re worthless. Fake. Something kids might give away as birthday party favors. They aren’t even old. According to the lab guy who tested them, the gold paint on their outsides chips and flakes quickly. They haven’t even been out of whatever container or package they were in for very long.”

  “Someone planted them? In the tombstone?” I said. Who? I went through the list of possible suspects in my mind, but the list seemed to only grow more.

  “That’s what it seems like,” Jim said. “Now, I don’t know who would do this and why they would do it, but I’d like to know if you know anything more about the coins.”

  “Nothing. I found them and I called you.”

  “Right.” Jim leaned back in his chair and looked at me again. “Betts, are you one hundred percent sure you didn’t have anything to do with putting the coins in the tombstone?”

  Now would have been a good time to call my attorney. Jim wasn’t questioning me directly about Everett’s murder, but he was questioning me around something that might have something to do with Everett’s murder. It was murky and it wasn’t. I knew what was going on, but I decided to throw caution to the wind, like any good dropout would do.

  “No, Jim, I didn’t. Why would I?”

  “A diversion.”

  “A…? You mean from investigating the murder? No, and I’m trying not to be offended at your accusation.”

  Jim put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not accusing. I’m just asking.”

  I looked at Cliff whose focus was intently on his computer screen. “Okay, well, the answer again is that I didn’t have a thing to do with the fake coins. I don’t know who would plant them, but perhaps it was a joke of some sort or perhaps it was something someone did for the tourists like you said,” I cleared my throat. “Maybe they do have something to do with the real treasure.”

  “These were fake coins. These weren’t part of any valuable treasure,” Jim said.

  Maybe Everett’s murder had nothing to do with the treasure. Maybe Everett had been killed because of some false accusations from a teenager. Maybe his wife—the one no one in Broken Rope seemed to have known about—had something to do with his death. But even if Gram was involved with the search, the treasure was still an avenue I thought Jim should look at closely.

  Did I think that the coins were the result of someone boosting the appeal for tourists? Not really. It was possible but not likely since I didn’t know anything about them beforehand. The cemetery was a tourist destination, but it was right next to the cooking school. If someone had hidden the coins for something fun, they would have told me and Gram about them. Additionally, they’d been well hidden. We didn’t make things that hard for the tourists.

  I shrugged and tried to sound doubtful. “Maybe someone did put them there for the tourists.”

  “But the more I think about it, who would have done that?” Jim asked. “Sounds like something Jake might do but not without telling you, Miz, and maybe the rest of the world, too. Jake likes to share his good ideas.”

  I shook my head. “I’m certain that Jake didn’t.”

  “And how would these coins have something to do with Everett’s murder?” Jim asked. Cliff scooted his chair over a couple inches.

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t. “But it’s weird isn’t it? Coincidental, maybe, but the coins were found shortly after the murder. I’m not saying that I know for certain that the real treasure has anything to do with Everett’s murder, but it might be something you should look at more closely.” I couldn’t be more direct than that.

  Jim bit at his bottom lip for a moment. Finally, he surprised me and said, “I think so, too.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I just wanted to see how you’d try to persuade me. I might have a small hunch that everything’s connected, but I have no real idea how, Betts. I hoped you’d say something that made me put it all together. You didn’t.”

  “Sorry. Did your guy find any fingerprints on the coins?”

  Jim’s eyebrows rose. “Actually, yes, it looks like he did. But just on one of the coins. The one that was on top of the tombstone. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help us much. The coin was out in the open. Any number of people could have touched it. Well, any number of people who happened to be looking at the tombstone lately.”

  “Did you identify the fingerprint?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I see.”

  The three of us looked at each other for a moment. It was as if we were creating some invisible triangle with our laser vision. The cuckoo chirped and I resisted the urge to grab one of their guns and shoot it.

  “I processed the drops on the roof. They were blood. Good work, Betts,” Cliff finally said. “I admitted that I missed them.”

  “Yes, he did, and he’s not fired yet. That was a good catch, Betts. Again, I don’t know where it will take us, but it’s another piece. Somehow the pieces fit together to form the picture, but I’m not seeing anything clearly. I’m almost positive you are, though. If something happens and you finally think you can share your information with me, will you call me right away?” Jim said.

  “Of course,” I said. “But I’m not connecting the dots either. At this point, I’d tell you
if I was.”

  Jim nodded slowly and doubtfully. “And you’ll continue to be careful and make sure Miz is careful, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you for coming in, Betts,” Jim finally said.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Cliff said.

  The growing crowd had grown some more. People were everywhere now. There wasn’t much to see yet, but sometimes that was the best part of the day before the opening. It was easier to walk casually around town and peek into windows to see the beginning, the preparation.

  The hanging platform was almost a quarter finished. The saloon and the pool hall were open and I could see customers file in and out of each business.

  “Well, thanks for dinner last night and for taking me into the theater today,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. It’s been good to see you again.”

  “You, too,” I said. It was, but I felt like my words rang false. I hadn’t meant for them to.

  Cliff looked at me with a sideways smile. “Betts, I’m new at this job, but I think I have pretty good instincts—plus I think I know you pretty well—and it’s obvious there’s something you’re keeping to yourself.”

  “Hang on!” I said. “You don’t know me! You know the young teenager high school me. You don’t know the me I am today. Don’t presume that our past gives you immediate knowledge of the person I’ve become. “

  The anger that lit through me like the kitchen fire was as big as an ocean. It was okay for Jim to think I was hiding something but not for Cliff to. But even I knew it wasn’t all about Cliff’s innocent assumption. It was about the other things that had happened in between our past and our present, that gap, that defined who we were at that exact moment as we stood on the boardwalk outside the jail. I’d let him go, pushed him away, in fact. He’d gotten married and started a life I wasn’t going to be a part of. And then he’d come home, though not back to me, a single man who hadn’t shed his wedding band. Other things like my new acquaintance, the ghost, and Everett’s murder were swirling in that ocean of anger, too, but mostly it was full of me and Cliff and our choices and mistakes. I put my hand on my chest and took a deep breath. I didn’t like feeling that angry and I didn’t understand it.

  “I get that, Betts. I apologize if I sounded presumptuous. All I wanted to say was this—I’d be happy if we could be friends again, but you probably shouldn’t share things with me that you don’t also want shared with Jim. I’m taking this job seriously, but I don’t ever want you to think I’m not on your side. If you tell me things that you shouldn’t, I’m going to have to make some pretty tough decisions. So, as a favor to me,” he put his hand on his chest, “please keep secrets.”

  And he smiled—just a little, but enough to form that stupid dimple.

  And I wanted to touch his hair.

  I wondered if I had some new weird hair fetish happening or if I was just being nostalgic. Either way, Cliff’s return to Broken Rope was going to be something really wonderful or something really awful. And it might end up being my own outlook that would be the determining factor.

  The ocean calmed somewhat and was replaced with deep embarrassment. I’d reacted too quickly and to something that probably hadn’t been there in the first place, but I wasn’t going to apologize. I nodded and looked down the street at an elderly couple going into Broken Crumbs.

  “Something tells me there are more things you’d like to say to me, perhaps unpleasant things. Feel free to anytime, Betts. I’d like for us to get our pasts out of our systems, if that’s possible.”

  I didn’t mean to. In fact, it was almost an involuntary action. My eyes went directly to the wedding band.

  “Good point,” Cliff said as he tracked my line of vision. He took off the band and put it in his pocket. “Better?”

  “Only if you were really ready.”

  Cliff nodded and smiled. “We’ll see.”

  I nodded, too, and smiled, but only a little. There was more to discuss and I hoped we could become friends again. But only time would tell.

  “See you later, Betts.”

  Cliff went back into the jail as I stood on the boardwalk and contemplated my next move. I could go back and talk to Jake again, but I didn’t think that would lead to knowing much more than I already did. I knew I was going to owe Teddy even more, but I pulled out my cell phone and called Gram.

  “Meet me at Verna’s office,” I said.

  “Isabelle Winston, what makes you think I have time to meet at Verna’s office? Tomorrow is the cook-off.”

  “Teddy can take care of things there, Gram. We need to talk. It’s important. And bring Jerome if he’s with you.”

  She muttered unpleasant things that weren’t fit for fine conversation but then agreed to meet me. As she hung up her phone, I heard her say, “Teddy, come here, sweetie, I’ve got to go. Your sister’s in a mood.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “Everything you say in here is protected by attorney-client privilege,” Verna said as she reached for a piece of candy in a bowl on the corner of her desk, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. “You’ve already told me that you didn’t kill Mr. Morningside. We are sticking with that being the current story, right?”

  “Of course I didn’t kill Everett,” Gram said. “But I do have a cooking school to attend to, so if you wouldn’t mind, Betts, telling me why you demanded this meeting.”

  “I’m curious, too,” Jerome said from where he leaned against the wall in the corner of Verna’s small office. He had been back at the theater when he saw me talking to Cliff and then on the phone with Gram, so he’d come with me to Verna’s. He’d wanted to talk about Cliff and then the reason for the meeting, but I hadn’t. I did tell him that he had indeed found blood on the roof and that it just might help solve the crime.

  I turned my head and peered at him over my shoulder. How was he able to lean or sit, but when I touched him, there was nothing there? Verna probably wondered what I was looking at but she didn’t ask.

  Verna’s office was in her home, at the back of it, to be specific. Her husband, Ben, had built on the addition some ten years earlier. There was no separate entrance so to get to it you had to come into the front door of the house, step over and around things in the front room, walk down a hallway and through the kitchen. The other option was to enter through the kitchen, but that meant going into the backyard, which was a dangerous maneuver. Verna and Ben had dogs that were trained to scare the “guilty right out of a person.” Bo and Peep were both big and quick with loud barks and teeth that could intimidate from a good block away. They were Verna’s protection for her country home. And protection was something she often noted that attorneys needed.

  The walls of Verna’s office were decorated in anything that had anything to do with fishing. Pictures, posters, magazine covers, hooks, flies, taxidermy fish, and even a couple of poles covered the walls. Her desk was also well covered but with files and paperwork. I knew some of the files were for her law practice and some were for her genealogy work but it was difficult to tell which was which. Some were manila folders and others were a bright purple. If I had to guess, I’d say the purple ones were for the genealogy.

  “I need some answers, Gram,” I said as I peered again at Jerome, who tipped his hat agreeably. “I thought I should ask you in front of Verna, so you won’t feel like you’re going around your attorney.”

  Gram looked at Verna who leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “All right then, Betts, ask away,” Gram said. “I suppose it’s time to answer a few things anyway. If Verna doesn’t stop me, I’ll try to be cooperative.”

  “Were you and Everett romantically involved?”

  “No. We were friends. I told you that when I was in jail. I also already told Verna.”

  “Did you know he was married?” I was just revving the engine. The bigger question was coming in a second.

  “Yes, and I told you that already, too, but his wife didn’t know he and I
had become such good friends. He didn’t want her to become suspicious of the time we were spending together.”

  “That didn’t work,” I said. “Why the secrecy? Why were you and Everett so close? Why didn’t you just invite Mrs. Morningside over for dinner and we could have all been friends?”

  Verna sat forward. “Hang on a second, Miz. Why do you need to know this, Betts?”

  “I’ve come upon some information that might help with the case but only if I have all the pieces.”

  “What’s the information?” Verna asked.

  “I can’t tell you,” I said, “but I assure you I’m doing everything in my power to find someone other than Gram as the killer.”

  Verna laughed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

  I hesitated for dramatic effect. I’d said what I’d said to get her to say what she said. Verna was smarter than most people I knew, and I didn’t think I’d be able to lead her down any path. I was going to act coy for a moment to see if she’d bargain. If I held out a little and then finally offered the information I had, she’d be more willing to allow Gram to share her information. I didn’t have that much to reveal anyway.

  “I just can’t,” I said.

  “Quid pro quo, sweetie. You remember what that means?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you share and maybe we’ll share, too.”

  Jerome laughed. “I think I like her.”

  I tried to look defeated, but I wasn’t sure if I pulled it off. I hoped so. “Fine. Gram, were you and Everett looking for a buried treasure? The buried treasure that outlaw Jerome Cowbender left behind? That’s what the information I have is about: Jerome’s buried treasure. I’m pretty sure it existed.” She wouldn’t allow me to ask her questions about the treasure when she was in the jail. I was putting money on the fact that she also hadn’t told Verna about it, and I thought that Verna would think it was important. Gram might have said she’d try to be cooperative, but she also probably thought I’d given up on the “silly treasure stuff.” It was all a guess and rotten manipulation on my part, but it needed to work.

  Verna looked at Gram. “Miz, you didn’t tell me anything about this. Is this what you and Everett were doing, looking for a buried treasure?”