Dead Broke

by Vannetta Chapman

“Do you know my cousin still works at the paper, Jimmy?” Gina pointed at the badge on his shirt. “You may have straightened up your act now, or at least you want everyone to think you have, but some of us remember those charges in high school that were dropped after your daddy wrote a donation check to the police department. You want that story brought back up? Because I have a good memory of the details.”

  Agatha was now listening aptly, her head swiveling from Gina to Banister and back again.

  Bannister ran a hand over his face, then he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “It’s her first offense. More than likely the judge will go easy on her, but I have to process this because we have evidence.” He held up the offending bag of brownies and shook it in her face.

  “Those are not Agatha’s.” Gina spoke each word as if it were a complete sentence—as if she needed to speak more slowly so that Bannister could catch up.

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “Someone left them on her doorstep, and I’m the one who found them and brought them in the house.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake...”

  “If you want to arrest someone then arrest me.”

  “Gina...”

  “I was with Agatha all morning and Tony was with her all afternoon. There’s no way she could have made those brownies without us seeing.”

  “She could have made them yesterday.”

  “No one baked in my kitchen yesterday, and I will sign a sworn statement to that affect.” She took another step forward, literally standing toe to toe with the lieutenant. “Now take off those cuffs.”

  Bannister was about to refuse.

  Agatha could read it in his expression as easily as she could read a recipe.

  With a sinking feeling, Agatha knew she would indeed be making a trip to the Hunt Police Department, and this time she wouldn’t be sitting outside talking to Julia Perez. She could practically hear the ominous sound of the interview room door closing. A shiver crept down her spine, and she searched for some residual strength, some resolve that could help her through what lay ahead.

  But suddenly Patsy Wright was striding across the lawn.

  Her husband held back, taking in the scene with solemn eyes.

  Patsy walked right up to Bannister, forcing her way between him and Gina, forcing Bannister to back-up. Agatha didn’t hear what the woman said to him, but his expression and demeanor suddenly changed.

  He looked as if he’d taken a sip of some very sour lemonade, but he put his hands on his hips and jerked his head once toward Griffin, indicating she should take off the cuffs.

  As the metal fell away from her wrists, Agatha noticed Fonzi creeping around the corner of the porch, yellow back arched in the shape of a Halloween cut-out, eyes ablaze, and a hiss escaping from his mouth.

  Before she could call out, he was dashing across the yard, toward the dogs, who tucked their tails and tripped over one another trying to get back into their handlers’ vehicle.

  Fonzi must have got in a swipe because there was a whimper from one of the dogs. Officers shouted, the cat dashed back and forth, and the dogs attempted to escape the feline menace intent on attacking. It was all Agatha could do not to drop to the ground and howl in laughter.

  The DEA agents managed to load the dogs into the vehicle. They sat there, noses pressed against the windows as Fonzi walked slowly—majestically—across the yard, hopped onto the porch railing and proceeded to methodically clean his coat. Everything about his attitude said that his work here was done!

  Ten minutes later, Bannister, Griffin, the dogs, and the DEA agents were gone—taking the brownies with them. Patsy and Linus also vanished.

  Gina scrambled an egg and set it on the floor for Fonzi. When Agatha looked at her curiously, she defended herself with, “He earned a special treat.”

  Agatha somehow helped Gina put together dinner. The stew had been cooking on the back burner of the stove as the drug dogs sniffed their way through the house. All that was left to do was make the cornbread, set out fresh butter, put together a salad, and call everyone to dinner.

  Tony didn’t join them, explaining before he left that he needed to catch up on a few things at home. Agatha couldn’t tell if those things were related to the case or not. He’d asked three times if she was okay until she’d finally shooed him away.

  Gina had also left, claiming the excitement had given her a headache. Agatha rather thought she might be going into town to give Bannister another piece of her mind, but Gina assured her that wasn’t on the agenda. “I have a yoga class, and after today’s excitement, I need it.”

  Which left Agatha with a small group gathered around the table. Only four of her guests joined her—Henry and Emma, and Daniel and Mary. The Hochstetlers had taken a nap before dinner, and seemed more like their old selves.

  Once they’d had their silent prayer and begun eating, Daniel cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for any...embarrassment Mary and I might have caused. I have to admit I don’t remember much of it, only a sense that perhaps I acted in an improper way.”

  “Not at all,” Agatha assured them. “You told a few jokes, then fell asleep. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  Mary swallowed a spoonful of the stew, then pressed her napkin to her lips. “It’s only that the pressure has been so much these last few months...”

  Her husband reached over and covered her hand with his. Was he comforting her? Or signaling her to be quiet?

  They picked at their dinner, then excused themselves.

  Agatha watched them slowly walk toward the stairs. “There’s something going on with those two. It’s worrisome.”

  Henry had gone out to check on Doc, Agatha’s buggy horse. Emma had stayed and was helping with the dishes despite Agatha’s insistence that doing dishes wasn’t part of the vacation package.

  “I think they’re carrying a heavy burden,” Emma agreed. “I wish there was some way we could help, but until they’re ready to talk about it...”

  “I suppose.” Agatha washed another bowl and set it in the rinse water.

  “What about the Wrights? Why didn’t they join us for dinner?”

  “I have no idea.” She scrubbed at a serving spoon that had a bit of dried stew clinging to it. “It was so odd, the way they popped up.”

  “What could she have said to Bannister?”

  “I have no idea. Why would she even speak to him?”

  “And where did they go afterwards?”

  Agatha jerked the hand towel down from its hook. “We need a list. There’s so many questions, I can’t begin to keep them straight in my head...I keep dodging after one, dropping it, and lurching toward another.”

  “I’ve always been fond of lists myself,” Emma admitted. “Sometimes I add items I’ve already completed, just for the satisfaction of marking them off.”

  “Ahh. A kindred spirit.”

  Which was how Henry happened to find them, twenty minutes later, sitting at the table with a pad of paper and pen resting between them.

  “May I?”

  “Please do.” Agatha smiled at Emma. Agatha was thinking that men might not like making lists, but they usually enjoyed offering suggestions. Men were problem solvers, in her experience, and Henry did have that special gift of his drawing. Maybe he could illustrate an answer to one of their questions.

  “Interesting. This list seems pretty thorough.”

  Who killed Nathan King?

  Why had Joey Troyer/Smith lied and where was he?

  Who dropped off marijuana brownies at the B&B?

  Who called in the anonymous tip to the DEA?

  What had Patsy Wright said to Bannister?

  Why were the Thompsons staying at the B&B?

  What was really wrong with the Hochstetlers?

  “We tried to include everything that’s circling in our minds.” Agatha was so tired that the tension had seeped out of her as she and Emma had written the list. Now she couldn’t stop yawning.

  “We c
ould have put sub questions under the main questions,” Emma pointed out.

  Henry studied his wife, a smile playing on his lips. “Such as?”

  “Under that first one—who killed Nathan—we could have added the boot print we saw and the corner of the note you drew.”

  “Plus the tire print, and the bruise on Nathan’s neck.” Agatha yawned again, attempting to hide it behind her hand.

  “Under the Thompsons we could have asked what they were doing across the river today.”

  “And why were the Wrights photographing them...if that’s what they were doing.”

  Henry sank into a chair beside them. “When you say it like that, I feel as if we haven’t made any progress at all.”

  “Well. We did keep Agatha from being arrested.”

  Emma smiled broadly, and Agatha realized she’d made a friend for life. Sometimes difficult times did that—drew people closer than they might have become in a year of normal days.

  Agatha blinked rapidly, then tried opening her eyes wider.

  “Don’t fight it.” Henry nodded in understanding. “Just go on to bed. Plainly you’re worn out.”

  “I am, and Nathan’s funeral is tomorrow.” She stood, then pushed in her chair. “Gina made fresh oatmeal raisin cookies. They’re on the counter under the dishtowel, and she assured me they are not laced with any illegal substance. Help yourself to an evening snack.”

  Usually she read her Bible before bed. Sometimes she even knitted a little, but she knew she was too tired for either of those things. She changed into her nightgown, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. With a sigh of satisfaction, she pulled back the covers and crawled into her bed. Then, as she’d done so many times in her life, like she’d done even as a small child, she fell asleep with the words of her prayers on her lips and her heart calling out to God for guidance and help and protection.

  Chapter Ten

  Agatha awoke the next morning and had to fight the desire to pull the covers over her head. To burrow and forget the challenges of the day was what she wanted most. Given a few minutes she could convince herself that was what she needed most. Rather than give in to the urge, she sat up, pulled on her robe and shuffled into the kitchen.

  Fonzi had spent the night in the mud room.

  When she opened the back door to let him out to take care of his toilet needs, the cat stretched slowly—front paws out in front of him, head down, hind end pointed high in the air. Finally, he padded forward, rubbed against her leg, and walked leisurely out onto the back porch.

  It occurred to Agatha that God did a fine job designing a cat. Not just the way they looked—lithe and muscular and fluid—but the way they approached life. Fonzi took each day as it came, rose to the occasion when necessary, and didn’t seem to waste time anticipating future trouble or dwelling on that of the past.

  She could learn something from the beast.

  Once her coffee was made, she poured a cup, doctored it with a dab of cream, then made her way to the living room. She seemed to have the downstairs area to herself. For once, her guests were sleeping in. The sun wasn’t up properly, but the sky had lightened enough for her to gaze out the front window toward the parking area.

  There were no cars in her parking area.

  Where were her guests?

  Henry and Emma had arrived via an Uber driver, as had Daniel and Mary. It was about the only way to get to Hunt, Texas if you didn’t drive. Where were the Thompsons? Where were Patsy and Linus Wright? Where was Joey Troyer? Correction...Joey Smith.

  Surely she was the only B&B owner who had customers check in and then disappear.

  She finished her coffee, dressed for Nathan’s funeral in her dark grey dress and black apron, and popped the breakfast casserole into the oven.

  Gina arrived breathless and full of news. “Apparently after the DEA officers left here, something else happened.”

  “What else?”

  “A big bust.” Gina removed her jacket, put it on the peg in the mudroom with her purse, and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Caught some of them too, from what I heard—but not the big guy.”

  “Caught whom?” Emma asked. “What big guy?”

  Gina ignored the first question. “Big guy...leader of the operation...head honcho.”

  Henry and Emma walked into the room looking vastly more rested than Agatha felt. Henry said good morning and poured them both a cup of coffee.

  Gina checked the casserole in the oven, lowered the temperature to warm, and pulled out a fruit salad she’d put together the day before.

  “Gina was just telling me the morning news...something about a big bust. But she hasn’t explained bust of what?”

  “Drug dealers, I guess.”

  “Here in Hunt?” Agatha now firmly felt as if she wasn’t ready for the day. What else was going to happen? A murder. A missing person. Disappearing guests. Now a drug bust! Those were supposed to be big city problems.

  “From what I heard, it occurred fairly close to here. Maybe that’s why they were snooping around your B&B, Agatha. Maybe their anonymous tip was off a mile or so in the wrong direction.”

  “Except for the brownies,” Emma pointed out.

  “True.” Agatha closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath.

  She wasn’t sure if anonymous tips worked like that. She’d have to ask Tony, only she didn’t have time to trot over to his place. She needed to be at the funeral in a couple of hours, and there was work to do here at the B&B before she left.

  “Emma and Henry, what are your plans today?”

  “Thought we’d take the kayak and go upstream,” Henry said.

  “Looks like a beautiful day,” Emma added. “We need to enjoy the warmth and sunshine while we can. We talked to my son last night, and they had two inches of snow on the ground.”

  Daniel and Mary shuffled in, looking more like their normal worried selves.

  Agatha hopped up to fetch everyone plates. “Did you two have plans today?”

  Daniel sighed heavily, as if the idea of filling another day with activities was a bit more than he could manage. “Thought we might try our hand at fishing, if there’s no charge to use your fishing poles.”

  “Of course not. Poles and tackle are in the utility shed past the last cabin. Help yourself. Remember, all the fish are catch and release along this section of the river.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t planning on cleaning fish and cooking them.” Daniel stared at the table, dourly contemplating the grain in the wood.

  Mary grimaced. “There will be plenty of that type of work once we return home.”

  The Hochstetlers had definitely settled back into their sour dispositions.

  Agatha couldn’t sit around and worry about how to cheer them up. She was a B&B owner, not an entertainment director. She grabbed her pad and paper and saw the list she and Emma had made the night before. Pulling the top sheet off, she folded it and placed it in the pocket of her apron. Then she went to her office and spent fifteen minutes jotting down what she could possibly accomplish before going to the funeral.

  First and foremost, she needed to prepare for the last two couples who would be arriving for the weekend.

  Only when she checked her answering machine, she found that her other two reservations had cancelled. The calls had come in late the previous evening, but she’d been too busy to even notice. One said they’d had a change of heart, whatever that meant. The other said that “apparently now isn’t a good time to come.”

  What were they talking about?

  Could they possibly know about Nathan’s murder? Or the drug search?

  “Probably safer for them if they don’t come here,” she muttered, not really believing it but feeling better for having voiced the absurd notion.

  Agatha mentioned the cancellations to Gina, who didn’t look a bit surprised.

  “You can probably blame that on social media.”

  “Social what?”

  “You know...Facebook, Twitter, Inst
agram.”

  “I’ve heard of those things, but I don’t see what they have to do with my B&B guests.”

  Gina rested her backside against the kitchen sink and crossed her arms. “I didn’t want to bring it up.”

  “Bring what up?”

  “The Hunt Breaking News Page.”

  Agatha waited. Surely her friend and housekeeper would start making sense soon.

  “It’s like a gossip page, only it’s virtual. And...” She blew out a sigh. “There’s a rumor going around that your B&B might not be the safest place to stay.”

  “What?” Agatha’s stomach began to churn. She pressed a hand against it, as if she could calm her anxieties and fears with the palm of her hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. No one believes what they read on that page.”

  “It sounds like the two customers who were supposed to check in this afternoon believed it.”

  “Perhaps we should rebrand this place as a Murder Mystery Getaway.”

  “I don’t want to be a Murder Mystery Getaway. I’m a plain and simple B&B.”

  “Tell that to the DEA agents, or Nathan King, or even Russell Dixon.”

  Agatha blinked three times and waited for Gina to say she was kidding. Apparently she wasn’t. “I’m going to make sure Daniel and Mary found the fishing tackle.”

  “And I’ll start cleaning the Thompson and Wright cabins.”

  Agatha had shared the fact that both were missing when she first awoke.

  “Maybe they came back and left early.”

  Agatha tossed her a you-must-be-kidding look. “Before sunrise?”

  Gina shrugged. “If they were out all night, that’s all the more reason to tidy their cabins. They’ll be ready for a nap when they do make their way back here.”

  Agatha checked on Daniel and Mary, who had settled for a pleasant morning near the river. Daniel stood in the middle of the stream, water below his knees. Apparently he’d found a pair of waders along with the fishing tackle. He was casting with a fly rod. Mary sat in a chair on the bank, working on some knitting.

  “I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Agatha called out as she walked toward them.

  “We are.” Daniel pulled up the tip of the rod and cast the line again, making a nice S shape with the fishing line. He moved down the bank a little, casting as he walked.