Kernel of Truth

by Kristi Abbott

  He reached out to take my arm. “I know we haven’t known each other very long and it’s none of my business, but you might want to be careful.”

  “Of what?” I stopped.

  “Let’s call it the court of public opinion. It can be pretty damaging. I’ve seen it.” Garrett dropped my arm and bounced lightly on his toes. It must have been getting cold for him with barely any clothes on.

  “Yeah. I’ve been tried and convicted by this town before. It’s nothing new.” I shrugged.

  Garrett shook his head. “It is new, Rebecca. This isn’t about the behavior of a distraught high school kid. Someone’s dead.”

  I turned away from him. “And there’s no one with less reason than me to want it that way!”

  “So you say.”

  Great. Garrett didn’t even know me and he thought I was making up the whole story about Coco and me going into business, too. I turned away from the lake and sped up my pace as I walked away, but Garrett easily matched it so I slowed down instead. “Thanks for the advice,” I said hoping that my voice showed exactly how very much it was not welcome.

  “Call me if you want to talk,” he said, and then he was gone, jogging off into the sunset.

  I watched him for a second. Do all joggers bound like that? He looked like he was actually having fun. “Haters gonna hate, Sprocket, but we’re gonna show ’em, right?” I was starting to think of a way that I could. I’d show them all.

  Only suckers waited for permission.

  Twelve

  One of the first things Coco gave me when I came back to Grand Lake was a set of keys that included the keys to her house and to her shop. She had a set with my house keys and shop keys on them, too. Sprocket and I walked past POPS and Coco’s Cocoas and directly to Coco’s house a few blocks farther on.

  The sun was starting to set and no one was out as we walked up the driveway and around to the back door. Most of Grand Lake was inside cleaning up after supper and getting ready to settle down to a nice night of television or reading or needlepoint. I waited as an SUV went past on the street and then we let ourselves into Coco’s. I reached out to turn on the light and then thought better of it when I remembered the whole Barbara debacle. It would be better if no one knew we’d been here. I turned on the flashlight app on my phone instead.

  I shone the light around the kitchen. A coffee mug and a bowl sat in the drying rack. I ran my fingers over them. Of course Coco hadn’t left dirty dishes in the sink. That wasn’t her way. She liked things neat and tidy. She said it was part of why she’d never wanted to get married. She didn’t want to deal with anyone else’s mess.

  I made my way to Coco’s office and stood looking around for a minute or two. Where would she have kept the notes for the business plan she was writing for us? Where would I have kept them? That was easy. I would have kept them in some messy pile that was sliding off the edge of my desk. What would be the opposite of that?

  There was a wire rack with folders slotted into it. I halfway remembered Coco putting whatever she’d been working on in that for easy access. I pulled out the first folder. It was a lot of stuff about insurance. The next folder had her will. My heart sank a little. Maybe Jessica was right. Maybe Coco had been tired and wanting to retire if she was reviewing her will. Maybe I had been pushing her too hard to start our new venture. Maybe the coffee we were supposed to have together on Friday had been for her to let me down easy. A whole “it’s not your popcorn, it’s my chocolate” kind of breakup talk.

  I sat down in the chair behind Coco’s desk. Then I saw Coco’s to-do-list pad. I’d definitely know what she was planning if I could see what she’d put on that list, but the top page was blank. I held it up at an angle. There were some depressions on the top page. It would be easy enough to run a pencil over it gently to get at least a glimpse into what Coco was up to that last day.

  I was rummaging through the desk for a pencil when I heard the sirens. They were probably heading over to one of the taverns a few blocks away. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. Then the flashing lights strobed through the window to stripe Coco’s study walls in red and blue. Okay. Maybe there was something happening on the block. Please let there be something else happening on the block. I heard a car door slam.

  I looked at Sprocket and said, “Not again.”

  I could swear he laughed.

  Then Coco’s front door was slamming open and Huerta yelled, “Police! Coming in! Freeze with your hands up!”

  I slipped the notepad into my purse and raised my hands.

  At least this time Huerta put the window of the squad car down so Sprocket could hang his head out on our way to the station.

  * * *

  I glared at Dan from across his desk. He glared back. “Bec, just tell me what you were doing in Coco’s house. I’m sure we can clear this thing up and then we can all go home.”

  “I’m not talking until my lawyer gets here.” I pressed my lips together and mimed locking them and throwing away the keys.

  “Can’t you charge her with being uncooperative or something?” Jessica asked from her seat over on the side of the office.

  Jessica. Of course she was the one who called the cops on me. Again. Of course she had happened to be passing by her aunt’s house and saw my flashlight beam inside. Sprocket growled a little deep down in his throat.

  “And can’t you make that animal wait someplace else?” Jessica pushed back in her chair away from my dog.

  “Sprocket won’t hurt anything and Rebecca does have the right to counsel, Jessica.” Dan rubbed his hand over his face. He looked tired. Good. I couldn’t believe it when he told Huerta over the radio to arrest me. For the second time in the space of a week. Me. His best friend. The person who created a diversion when he stole his first candy bar. The person who helped him glue down everything on Ms. Vigler’s desk in sixth grade.

  Come to think of it, Dan was kind of a juvenile delinquent back in the day. He probably didn’t want to be reminded of it this minute, though.

  “I suppose next you’re going to tell me she has the right to break into my aunt’s home and rifle through Coco’s belongings at will.” Jessica sniffed.

  “There was no breaking. There was only entering,” I protested. “I have a key.”

  Dan’s eyebrows went up and I remembered that whole “not talking until my lawyer got there” thing. Luckily, he showed up about then.

  Garrett looked like we’d interrupted an evening of watching basketball on the couch. In fact, I was pretty sure we had. He had on jeans and a Case Western sweatshirt. His hair was still wet from a shower, but he had a five-o’clock shadow going. He looked decidedly un-corporate and not even a teensiest bit lawyerly. I was relieved, however, that he wasn’t still wearing those shorts. They were distracting, and I needed to stay focused.

  “Rebecca,” he said, sneakers squeaking on the tile floor. “If you’d wanted to see me again, you could have called. You didn’t have to get arrested first.”

  “Calling you wasn’t my idea.” It actually hadn’t been. Huerta had stressed the “you have a right to an attorney” thing pretty hard and Dan had actually slipped me Garrett’s card.

  “So I’m missing the end of the Cavaliers’ game for no good reason?” He leaned against the doorframe of the office.

  I didn’t feel like explaining everything in front of Jessica. “Don’t you want to consult with me in private?” Then blushed at exactly how that sounded. Based on Dan’s smirk, he’d heard it, too.

  Garrett grinned. “Yeah. Right. Dan? You have a spot where I could speak to Ms. Anderson? Privately?”

  Dan nodded his head. “Of course. Follow me.” He stood up and led us down the hall to a small conference room. He opened the door and stood aside. “Be my guest.”

  Once we got inside and sat down, Garrett said, “Rebecca, what the hell? Did you not hear what
I said to you about the court of public opinion? How do you think rummaging around in Coco’s private papers is going to look to people?”

  “I was trying to find some notes that Coco and I had made about our business plan. Then I’d be able to show everyone that we were going to start a new business together and she didn’t have any plans to retire and that Jessica is making stuff up to make me look bad. Again. That’s all. Well, those and some recipe ideas we’d been working on. I could re-create those on my own, but it’d be easier if I had the notes we’d already made.” I ran the edge of my thumbnail up and down my jeans. “I don’t know why everyone has to make a federal case out of it.”

  Garrett pushed back in his chair and crossed his legs, ankle to knee. “It’s not a federal case, Rebecca. It’s a criminal one.” He jiggled his foot. He didn’t sound amused now.

  “I am not a crook,” I said. “I didn’t find the notes. Besides, if I had found them and took them, it wouldn’t be stealing. They were half mine.”

  “So you removed nothing from Coco’s home?” The foot kept jiggling, but nothing else on him was moving.

  I slid my hands under my thighs and crossed my fingers while thinking about that notepad. “No. Of course not.”

  He sighed and stood up. “Let’s go talk to Dan. Given the circumstances, there’s a chance I can make it home before the end of the fourth quarter. But first, give me your phone.”

  I handed it over. He hit a few buttons and then handed it back. “I put my contact information in there in your favorites list. Call me whenever.”

  “My favorites? Don’t you think that’s kind of presumptuous?” I asked as I stood up.

  He shrugged. “I’ve got good self-esteem. If I’m not one of your favorites now, I will be soon enough.” He held the door open for me.

  Sprocket and I trooped after him down the hall back to Dan’s office. Garrett motioned for me to sit down. “I think what we have here is an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

  I stifled a giggle. I’d been sure he was going to say “failure to communicate.” Dan, Jessica and Garrett all turned and stared at me. I held my hands up in front of me. “Sorry.”

  Garrett rubbed at his forehead with his thumb. “Ms. Anderson was simply trying to locate some business plans she had been working on with Ms. Bittles before Ms. Bittles’s untimely death. Ms. Bittles had given Ms. Anderson the keys to her home many months ago. Ms. Anderson did not think she was doing anything wrong by letting herself in and looking for the plans.” I noticed he didn’t mention the recipes.

  “She did, too! I already told her no,” Jessica burst out. “That’s why she was snooping around with a flashlight. She’s sneaky.”

  Garrett turned to me.

  I shrugged. “It wasn’t a flashlight. It was my cell phone. I didn’t know if the electricity still worked. I only wanted what was mine. Nothing else.”

  Jessica threw her tiny hands up in the air. “You really expect me to believe that, Rebecca? After I already told you I wouldn’t let you into her office to look for those papers?”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t expect anything of you, Jessica.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Now she was on full alert.

  “I mean, that if you had been willing to let me in to look for the business plan, I wouldn’t have had to let myself in.”

  She jumped to her feet. “So you admit you were snooping!”

  “I admit I was looking for the plans that Coco and I were working on. I might still want to go forward with them,” I said in what I hoped was a reasonable tone.

  “None of them better have anything to do with her fudge recipe, Rebecca.” She jabbed her finger toward me.

  I didn’t budge. “Of course not. Our plans were based on new recipes, collaborations between Coco and me.”

  “Jessica, do you still want to press charges against Rebecca?” Dan broke in.

  “I suppose not.” Jessica put her hands on her hips. “Just remember, Rebecca, whatever belonged to Coco now belongs to me. Me. Not you. Not ever.” Jessica shook her head and muttered something under her breath.

  Now I was on full alert. “Did you just call me a vulture?” The very same thing I had called Allen Thompson. She couldn’t have hurt me worse if she’d used a knife.

  “If the feathers fit, Rebecca. If the feathers fit.” Jessica looked at me, a little smile on her insipid face.

  I was on my feet so fast I didn’t even know how I’d gotten that way.

  Then Garrett was in front of me. “Get out of my way, runner boy.” I tried to feint around him.

  He blocked me easily and shook his head. “Nope. Take a second. Think about the optics, Rebecca.”

  “The what?”

  “How this would look. Think about it. Think about your knee.” He glanced down at my leg.

  It took me a second to put it together. He was talking about my high school showdown with Jessica. He was right. The optics were bad. Seriously bad. I dropped my hand. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Very much,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out of the police station with Sprocket guarding my back.

  Thirteen

  I didn’t see the black SUV on my way into POPS the next morning. I’d started watching for it. It gave me an itchy uncomfortable feeling. I did get a few knowing comments about my troubles with the law from some of the breakfast regulars. The Sentinel had run the story of my second arrest. I didn’t know how they’d heard about it so fast, but I suspected it was Jessica. She’d want everyone to know anything that made me look bad. She always had.

  By noon I’d received another set of texts from Antoine. He was certain I needed some kind of legal assistance and he would be happy to pay for it. He suggested that perhaps also I would like to return to California to avoid getting three strikes and being put in prison in Ohio for life.

  I didn’t respond to any of them.

  That evening, Haley and Dan were taking Evan to a Trout Fishing in America concert. I’d been invited to attend but had passed. Having been treated to “I Think I’ll Need a Bandaid” on a loop in the minivan on a trip to Cleveland the previous month, I was pretty sure that I’d stick something in my eye if I had to listen to them again. It had actually been a really funny cute song the first fifteen times I heard it. It had started to sour on repeat number sixteen. By repeat number twenty, I’d been done, but Evan had only been getting started. Ah, to be three.

  But then when I closed the shop, there didn’t seem to be any reason to head back to the apartment, either. No Haley. No Evan. No Dan. Just Sprocket and me. It seemed like a better idea to hang out at the shop and get a little paperwork done.

  Paperwork is my downfall. I’d never really had to do it before I opened POPS. When I was a teenager, it was Haley’s problem. When I was in school, it was the Institute’s problem. When I was cooking, it was the chef’s problem. When I got married it was Antoine’s problem.

  Now it was my problem and no one else’s. Coco and Annie had helped me set up a system, but the problem with systems is that a person had to actually then use the system to make it work. Somehow making the system work in the office was low on my priority list, so there was a stack of filing to be done teetering on my desk like an unstable chocolate fountain.

  I made myself a toasted cheese sandwich and then I made a second one to share with Sprocket, who had looked at the dry food I kept for him at the store and then at me and sighed heavily enough to rattle the blinds. I settled down at my desk and started working from the left side to the right side, filing whatever I came across that needed to be kept, throwing out the junk and making a significantly smaller pile of stuff that needed me to do something.

  I’d gotten a good rhythm going when I heard the sound of a car door shutting in the back alley. Not slamming. Shutting. Gently. Like whoever was shutting it didn’t want to make a lot of noise
.

  The hair on my arms stood up. Jasper’s words came back to me. If he didn’t do it, Coco’s murderer was still on the loose in Grand Lake. Criminals liked to return to the scene of the crime. We still didn’t know why anyone would have broken into Coco’s Cocoas when she was there alone working at night and now I was here working alone in POPS. Then I thought about that black SUV that always seemed to be cruising around wherever I was, looking dark and mysterious and dangerous.

  I hit the switch and turned off the lamp on my desk. All the rest of the lights were already off. I slid out of the room I used as my office, keeping close to the walls. Sprocket looked up at me, head tilted to one side in as plain a doggie question as I had ever seen. I held my finger up to my lips. He settled back to the floor.

  I slipped along the hallway to the kitchen. Annie’s back porch light was on, casting its glow into the shadows of the alley. It didn’t light up much, but it lit up enough for me to see Allen Thompson walking down the alley. His walk was like his door slam. Quiet. Clandestine. He stayed close to the shadows and kept looking over his shoulder.

  I craned my neck a little. The jerk. He’d parked in Coco’s spot. It galled me. The flowers hadn’t even wilted yet on her grave and he was parking in her spot and scoping out the properties around her business.

  That thought stopped me. Why would he be scoping out the other businesses? He owned everything on the block except for Coco’s. Her place was the only thing he should be sniffing around.

  I waited until he had shadow-walked past POPS and slipped out the back door, not shutting it behind me. I stayed in the shadows of the porch and watched while Allen stopped by Annie’s Dumpsters. I held my breath as he looked up and down. Good thing I was wearing black.

  After he’d satisfied himself that no one was around, he walked briskly across the alley, up the steps to Annie’s back door and directly into her shop. I bit my lip to keep from shouting out. Just because he owned the building didn’t mean he could march in and out at his pleasure.