Hot Cider and a Murder

by Kathleen Suzette

  “Sometimes your gut is right,” I said. “Have you told this to the detective?”

  “I did. He said he would question him if the toxicology came back positive,” he said.

  “I know Cade will find the killer. He’s the best detective in the state,” I assured him.

  He nodded. “I’m sure he is. You know, the other night at the party, I heard Daphne and Jack argue. He said she would give him another chance, or she was going to wish she had.” He looked at me, and tears sprang to his eyes. “I heard him. He said it, and I know he meant it because she shook his hand off her arm and told him she would go back to him over her dead body. And now she’s dead.”

  I inhaled deeply. “Wow. And you told this to Cade?”

  He hesitated. “I didn’t. I don’t know why, but all I told him was that Jack was there, and she didn’t want to see him. In fact, she had told me two days earlier that she hoped he wouldn’t show up and ruin everything.”

  “That’s definitely something to talk to Cade about,” I said.

  “I guess part of me is still having a hard time processing what happened. And to point the finger at someone to the police, well, I guess it doesn’t feel right,” he said and exhaled tiredly. “I guess I better learn to accept the fact that she isn’t coming back.” His voice cracked on the last word.

  “I’m sorry, Mark. I really am.”

  I stayed a few more minutes and then left. It was heartbreaking to think of the Richards family never being the same again after this.

  Chapter Six

  The next day I dropped by Jack Farrell’s photography studio. When I walked into the shop, I was greeted by the scent of a burning vanilla candle and wood-framed photos on the wall. Tiny clear lights draped the corners of the room, giving the storefront a warm ambiance.

  The store was divided by a short counter that formed a small area with a hallway on the side leading back to what I thought must be the studio. There was a silver bell on the counter and a small placard that said to ring the bell for service. I smiled. It was so small town-like.

  Instead of ringing the bell, I looked around at the framed pictures on the wall. I recognized most of the faces from around town. There was Sheila Carnes and Stanley Brewer, a wedding picture for Carla and Mike Smith, and a picture of Sarah James’s new baby. Many of the photos were taken at different outdoor sites, but there were a lot of pictures that had obviously been taken in a studio. My breath caught when I saw a small wall display of pictures of Daphne. She was gorgeous. She wore a red sweater that brought out her olive skin tone, jeans, and brown suede high-heeled boots. The pictures had been taken at what looked like one of the local parks earlier in the year. The trees were green and bright beneath the photographer’s lens.

  “Can I help you?”

  I turned around and came face-to-face with Jack Farrell. He was handsome with his red hair and close-cropped beard. He was tall and imposing.

  I smiled. “Hi, I was just passing by and thought I’d stop in and take a look around. You do such wonderful work,” I said.

  “Thank you, I appreciate that,” he said, beaming. “I live for photography. It’s gratifying to hear someone praise my work.”

  “I always wanted to learn photography, but I guess I never got the chance. Or maybe I never took the time to learn. My name is Rainey Daye.” I reached a hand out and watched his quizzical expression.

  “Rainey Daye?” he asked, shaking my hand.

  I nodded. “My mother has quite the sense of humor. I have an identical twin sister whose name was Stormy Daye.” I rolled my eyes. “Fortunately for Stormy, she got married and changed her last name to Jennings.”

  He laughed, a deep sound that came from his chest. “Your mother sounds like my kind of woman. I do love a good sense of humor. I’m Jack Farrell.”

  “Well then, Jack, you’d love her,” I said and chuckled.

  “Tell me, Rainey, were you looking to hire a photographer?” He looked me up and down, making me feel a little uneasy.

  “Maybe. I’m writing a book, and I’ll need a new author photo. The one I have is pretty dated. I think it’s at least five years old,” I said.

  He nodded. “It’s time for a new one then. What kind of books do you write?”

  “Cookbooks. I’m in the middle of writing an Americana-themed cookbook right now.”

  “Wow, that’s exciting. I love to cook. When will your book be published?” he asked, leaning on the nearby wall.

  “I think I’ll be finished sometime around the beginning of next year. I’m currently sending queries around, looking for a publisher. Hopefully I can get a contract soon.”

  “So you’ve been published before?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’ve had several cookbooks published.”

  He nodded. “What style picture were you thinking about for your author picture?” he asked. “We can do something formal in the studio, or we can do a casual shot outdoors. There are a lot of beautiful places around Sparrow that we can use as a backdrop.”

  I turned and looked at a photo of Daphne posed casually beneath a tree. “I kind of like this pose. I like the outdoor shots. They aren’t as stuffy as indoor ones.” I turned back to look at him.

  Jack frowned, his eyes on the picture I had pointed out. “We can arrange something like that. We took that out in the woods near the river.”

  I turned to the photo, gazing at it. “Did you know Daphne well? It’s a terrible shame that she’s gone. She was so young.” I turned back to him.

  He nodded and looked out the front picture window. “We dated for a while,” he said, turning back to me. “I don’t know how she could have died. She was in great shape. She ran and worked out at the gym.”

  “I saw her at the gym a lot,” I said. “I don’t know what happened either. Hopefully they’ll figure out soon how she died.”

  “I heard a rumor that it was poison.” He looked at me, as if waiting to see if I would confirm this.

  I returned his gaze, wondering who had said that. It made sense that Mark knew there was a possibility of murder since he was a family member, but how did Jack know? Or did he know because he had something to do with her death?

  “Poison? How awful. I was there at the party, and she seemed like she had had a lot to drink.”

  He frowned. “She had been drinking a lot recently. I told her she was going to be sorry. One day she was going to find that she couldn’t quit. But she never listened to me. I doubt she listened to anyone.”

  “She was headstrong, wasn’t she?”

  He nodded and looked away. When he looked back at me, there were tears in his eyes. “We were going to get back together. We talked about it that night. We were going to go out this weekend.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said sympathetically. “Do you mind my asking why you broke up?” Was Mark wrong about Daphne not wanting to be with Jack? Were they really getting back together?

  He gave me a sad smile. “Work issues. We both had so much going on. It seemed like it was a good idea to take a break. But as soon as we did, we both knew it wasn’t right, and we needed to be together. I missed her so much. She said she really missed being with me. And now she’s gone.” I could see tears threatening, but he blinked them back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I just can’t imagine who would do something like that to her, if it’s true that she was poisoned. Everyone loved her.”

  He nodded. “She just had a way about her.” After a moment, he took a deep breath. “If you want to know the truth, I think if she was poisoned, it may have been Alex Stedman, her former employer.”

  “Alex Stedman? Doesn’t he own a software company in Boise?” I decided to play it dumb.

  He nodded. “That’s him. Daphne worked for him for three years. He put pressure on her to date him, but she wasn’t interested.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Her boss wanted to date her? That’s kind of crossing a line.”

  “Like I said, he put a lot of pressur
e on her. She said he threatened to fire her if she didn’t go out with him. I told her to get a lawyer and bring charges against him, but she didn’t want to. She said she didn’t want to hurt him.”

  “What difference does it make that it would hurt him? A boss doesn’t have any right to pressure an employee to date him.” It didn’t sound like the Alex I knew back in school, but maybe he had changed.

  “That’s what I told her. I told her not to be concerned with the consequences her boss might suffer. She shouldn’t have been worried about that.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I think if I was being pressured by my boss, I’d have to get a lawyer.”

  He nodded. “I told her the same thing. He’s the one who was in the wrong. He should have thought of the repercussions before he did what he did.”

  “I thought I saw Alex at the party,” I said, hoping he would keep talking.

  He nodded. “He got there early in the evening. I had gone outside, and when I came back in to look for Daphne, he had her cornered in that hallway where she was found,” he said. His mouth formed a straight line, and his eyes became hard when he said it.

  “I went to school with Alex. I always thought he was a nice guy,” I said.

  “Like I said, it was early when I saw him. I asked Daphne if she was okay, and he said they were just talking. Daphne went into the ladies’ room. After that, I didn’t see him again, so maybe he left early,” he said.

  “Do you know how he might have gotten her to take poison? If that’s what happened?” I asked him, not mentioning the fact that I had spoken to Alex shortly before Daphne was found.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess she had had a lot to drink. Maybe it was in one of her drinks.”

  “Did you tell the detective what you saw?”

  “I never got the chance to. I heard he was talking to people at the party that night, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “I know there were a lot of people at the party. I’m sure he’ll stop by. He’s very thorough when he investigates.”

  “You sound like you know him personally,” he said.

  I smiled. “We’re dating.”

  “Oh? And here I was going to ask you out.”

  That was the last thing I expected him to say. He had just said he was getting back together with Daphne and how much he missed her. Now he says he wanted to ask me out? He was definitely someone Cade needed to talk to.

  “Oh,” I said with a chuckle. “Well, we’ve been dating for a few months.”

  He nodded. “Maybe if things don’t work out, you can give me a call.”

  I stared at him. “Sure, well, I better get going. I’ve got to get to work.”

  I got out of there quick. He had suddenly given me the creeps.

  Chapter Seven

  “How do scones sound?” I asked Sam. “More specifically, pumpkin scones?”

  He looked over at me. “Well, I like pumpkin anything. At least I think I do. But I’ve never had a scone before.” He turned back to the stove and flipped a row of pancakes he had cooking on the griddle.

  I turned and gasped. It was a little dramatic, but someone in this day and age admitting they had never had a scone before was shocking. “Seriously? How can that be?”

  He shrugged without looking at me. After flipping the remaining pancakes, he turned around. “I just never had them before. I like simple food, not that fancy stuff.”

  “Scones are not fancy. We need to rectify this. I cannot allow this calamity to continue. Ron, have you had scones before?” I turned and asked our dishwasher.

  “Indeed, I have. I love a good scone with a nice vanilla latte with medium foam,” he said without turning around from the sink where he was washing dishes.

  I was pretty sure he was teasing me, but I didn’t care. Scones were one of my favorite foods, and in honor of fall, they were going to be pumpkin.

  The summer tourist season was over. Things were quieter both in Sparrow and at Sam’s Diner, where I worked my main job. I got the ingredients out to make the scones. When one of the other waitresses popped into the kitchen, I turned to her. “Dianne, if things get hectic out there, let me know and I’ll be right out.”

  She came over, peering at the empty mixing bowl I had in front of me. “Ooh, what are we going to get to try today?”

  “Pumpkin scones. They aren’t exactly going to fit in with my cookbook’s theme, but I don’t care. I’ve been thinking about making them for days.”

  “I don’t care either. I want some. Make a lot, will you?” she said.

  “You bet,” I said and began measuring out the flour.

  Dianne went out onto the diner floor to wait on customers, and I turned back to the scones.

  “So, Sam, what do you think about Daphne Richards’s death?” I asked him.

  He turned to look at me. “It’s a terrible shame. Do you know how she died?”

  “The police aren’t sure yet. They’re doing an autopsy,” I said. “Cade said they put a rush on it.”

  “So he must think it’s murder,” Sam said. “That’s a shame. The Richardses are good people.”

  “It really is a shame. Do you know them very well?” I asked, measuring out the butter.

  “Not really. I did spend the weekend at one of their cabins two weekends ago. Got some fishing in. Steelhead were really biting,” he said with a grin.

  “Did you see Daphne there?” I asked him.

  He nodded and began cracking eggs onto the griddle. “I did. She was arguing with her brother Mark.”

  “Arguing about what?” I asked.

  “I couldn’t hear it all, but it sounded like something about a job. I figured it had to do with something that needed to be done around the lodge,” he said.

  “Did it seem like a big fight?” I asked, measuring out the spices. “Were they really going at it?”

  “Sort of. But you know how some siblings can be. It may have sounded terrible, but it might have been just how they usually interacted with each other.”

  I nodded. “That’s true. I’m glad Stormy and I get along so well.” Mark had said they were close, but maybe his idea of close was different than mine.

  “She was also arguing with her father the next day,” he added after a minute.

  “What were they arguing about?” I used a can opener on a large can of pumpkin puree.

  “Her drinking,” he said somberly. “Her father wanted her to go to AA or rehab, and the suggestion made her angry. She screamed at him and told him she would never speak to him again if he didn’t drop it.”

  “I heard her drinking had gotten worse,” I said.

  “I saw her at a bar a few months ago, and that girl could really put it away. You know she wasn’t very big, but it took a while for her to act like she’d had anything to drink,” Ron volunteered.

  “Really?” I said, turning to him.

  He nodded. “It’s a shame. A girl that young. She had her whole life in front of her, but it looks like she threw it away by drinking.”

  Sam looked over his shoulder, but there were only the three of us in the kitchen. “I heard she had a real big problem with it. She got a DUI a few months ago and lost her license. Apparently she had a prior record of DUIs. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Really? I bet that made things hard for her. If she couldn’t drive and she wanted to get away from the lodge and buy alcohol, I mean. Sounds like her father wasn’t willing to get it for her,” I said. It had to have made life difficult for the rest of the family too. From what I knew, Mark still lived with his parents, and his older brother Tim and his wife Gina had a small house there on the property.

  “I bet,” Sam said. “Did Cade tell you anything about what he thinks happened?”

  “No, they’re still waiting on toxicology,” I said.

  “I knew I’d find you in here,” Georgia said, standing in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips and glaring at me. Georgia Johnson was one of the other waitress
es at Sam’s.

  I looked at her, and it took everything I had in me not to roll my eyes. Georgia and I had a history, and it wasn’t a good one. I wasn’t even sure why. She didn’t like me, and it didn’t matter what it did to try to rectify it; she refused to be friends. Or even nice.

  “Sam said I could make scones. For all of us. If it gets busy out there, just let me know and I’ll come out and help wait on people,” I said, looking away.

  “Sam?” she said, turning toward him. Apparently, my version of things wasn’t going to satisfy her.

  “I said it was fine. Just let her know if it gets busy,” Sam said without looking at her. I could see his shoulders shake slightly. He might have thought it was funny, but it wasn’t funny to me. I was tired of Georgia’s attitude toward me.

  She snorted and headed over to the order holder, slipping her order onto one of the stainless steel arms. “Funny how some people get away with everything,” she grumbled. Before heading back out onto the diner floor, she stopped and rolled her eyes at me.

  “I’m not getting away with anything,” I mumbled and began mixing the pumpkin into the other ingredients.

  She stopped at the kitchen doorway and turned to me. I thought we were about to have a big argument and braced myself.

  “You know that Daphne girl everyone is talking about?”

  I nodded. “Yeah? What about her?”

  “I saw her at a ball game in the spring with her boss, Alex Stedman. They were sitting close together and drinking a couple of beers. I thought it was weird at the time because I heard she was dating Jack Farrell. It just makes you wonder what all she was up to. Maybe dating two different men can get you killed. Especially two men that like to drink.” She turned and left the kitchen without another word.

  Sam turned and looked at me. “That’s a possibility.”

  “I know Jack Farrell has a history of fighting with people. He has a nasty temper when he’s been drinking,” Ron said, rinsing a stockpot under the faucet.

  “That’s certainly something to think about,” I said. I needed to get together with Cade. I didn’t want to bother him when he was in the beginning of an investigation, but this information might be important. “We’re going to have fresh pumpkin scones in just a little while.”