Peaches and Scream

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Peaches and Scream Page 8

by Chelsea Thomas


  Teeny beamed. “Thank you very much, Samuel. I like that word, magnificent. Well said.”

  Samuel placed the platter on the table and removed the silver top. “I trust you’ll be flabbergasted by the taste experience you’re about to enjoy. Please call for me if there’s anything you need.”

  Miss May shook her head. “Such a weird kid. Reminds me of Germany.”

  I’d been so caught up in the case, I hadn’t been missing Germany as acutely. But as soon as Miss May said his name, I felt the space of his absence. I sighed and looked fondly after the teenager. “He does remind me of Germany. But I think he’s less weird. Germany is…from another planet.”

  Teeny handed each of us a fork and pushed the platter to our side of the table. I realized I hadn’t even looked at the food yet. On the plate sat three enormous, golden-brown pancakes.

  Miss May turned down the sides of her mouth, impressed. “Pancakes. They look fluffy and delicious. Did you use the extra buttermilk from the hush puppy recipe?”

  “Of course I used the extra buttermilk. But that’s not what makes these pancakes special. Cut into one and take a bite.”

  Miss May and I each stabbed a bite of pancake with a fork. As soon as I cut into the fluffy circle of goodness I saw the secret ingredient… “Is there macaroni and cheese in this pancake?”

  Teeny laughed and slapped the table. “You got it. That’s a macaroni and cheese pancake. Isn’t it brilliant? Easy, too. I made my incredible, award-winning macaroni and cheese, then I put it in the pancake.”

  Miss May and I laughed. We each took a bite of pancake. The outside was crispy, which I loved. But the inside was filled with delicious, not-too-cheesy macaroni and cheese. Teeny had used elbows for the macaroni and each one gushed with the perfect amount of cheese when I bit into it. It was velvety and warm and so savory I felt like I was back in front of the fireplace at Miss May’s. Teeny always cooked with love and it was apparent in every one of her dishes.

  “How does it taste?” Teeny leaned forward.

  “You know it’s good,” said Miss May.

  Teeny snickered and took a bite of her own. “You’re right. I know it’s amazing. A Teeny recipe for the ages. Maybe I’ll make a big stack and send them over to Sudeer’s house as an apology.”

  Miss May shrugged. “Not a bad idea. Perhaps I should send a couple more pies as well.”

  “I’m glad Kayla had that receipt to prove Sudeer’s innocence,” I said. “Because the way he stammered back there… He seemed guilty. Or nervous or something.”

  Miss May nodded. “I suppose he was trying to prove his innocence without revealing the secret about the necklace he had bought. Poor guy. Seems like he’s had a rough few weeks. He must feel so strange now that Beth is dead.”

  “Yeah, weirdly it made me feel even worse for Beth,” I said. “I mean, yeah she was volatile and kind of mean, but it’s clear that she suffered from mental illness and that manifested in lots of ways. I think she probably needed help and she didn’t know where or how to get it.”

  “I think you’re right,” said Miss May. “She was definitely unpredictable. She lived a wild life and she was bold. There’s no telling how many people she might have offended.”

  “The more we learn about this case,” said Teeny. “The more it reminds me of this delicious macaroni and cheese pancake. From the outside, everything appears normal. Just your standard pancake. But when you break into the middle, there’s a whole secret ingredient hidden below the surface. Past the bottom, as Chelsea would say.”

  Miss May chuckled. “Well put, Teeny.”

  I took a big sip of water to wash down the pancake. “Who should we talk to next?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that all morning,” said Miss May. “There are a few leads we can pursue. We can talk to Beth’s brothers to find out what else they know. They could be suspects in this. We can try to track down Lillian, the woman who gave the eulogy. Although she seemed just as erratic and unsettled as Beth. And then, of course, there’s the question of this notebook.”

  Miss May pulled the marble notebook out of her purse and placed it on the table. “I stayed up late last night and read every entry.”

  My eyes widened. “You did? When were you going to share that information?”

  “It’s been a busy morning. Forgive me.”

  “OK. Sorry.” I took another bite of pancake. I felt a little guilty for questioning Miss May’s tactics, but the pancake made my bad feelings go away. Aren’t pancakes wonderful like that? If you ever need to forget your troubles, a short stack, a fork, and… OK, now I’m rambling.

  “So what did you learn?” asked Teeny.

  “I thought there might be a code in there. Since all the entries are so mundane. When I started off reading the notebook, I assumed there had to be something more. But every time I turned the page, it was just another list of Beth’s boring activities. So I went back to the list of people Beth thought wanted to kill her. I re-examined the suspects and their potential motives.”

  “They were all ridiculous,” I said. “Miss May nodded her head. “I agree. But one name didn’t have any motive listed beside it. It was flagged with a star and that’s it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Oh yeah. Big Jim.”

  “He argued with Beth at the peach festival. He acted belligerent at Beth’s funeral. Then he got into a public argument with Lillian,” Miss May said. “Something was off about Big Jim and we need to find out what.”

  Teeny pulled the plate of pancakes close to her chest. “Can we go after we finish the pancakes?”

  Miss May laughed. “Sure. I have a bad feeling we might need all our strength for this next confrontation.”

  19

  Illusion of Truth

  We arrived at Big Jim’s Magic Emporium around 2 pm that day. When we got there, Big Jim was locking up and hanging a “CLOSED” sign on the door. He was dressed in clothes just like what he wore to Beth’s funeral. Tattered jeans, stained T-shirt.

  He turned away from the door, spotted us and gave a little yelp of surprise. “Whoa, ladies. Those walking shoes must be expensive because I couldn’t hear you coming at all. What’s with the sneak attack?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

  The magic shop was housed in a cute little cottage on the outskirts of town. It had a big, fancy sign that said “Big Jim’s Magic Emporium,” in bold letters. Even Big Jim, whose size matched his nickname, somehow seemed minuscule standing beneath the signage. “You ladies almost gave me my second heart attack. Not fun. What’s up? Something tells me you’re not here to purchase any of my books or novelty magic items. Although, Teeny, I think you’d make a great magician’s assistant.” Big Jim smirked flirtatiously.

  “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you eight hundred times… I’m not going to be anyone’s assistant.” Teeny crossed her arms. “Stop asking me.”

  “OK. How are things with Big Dan, by the way?” Big Jim asked. Big Dan was the local mechanic, and Teeny’s current crush. Even though she was unwilling to give their relationship any official labels.

  Did Teeny have a thing for guys whose first name was Big?

  Miss May and I lit up with identical grins at the mention of Big Dan and turned to Teeny. My aunt and I both loved Teeny’s casual flirtationship with Big Dan. But I think we were equally delighted by Big Jim’s overt pick-up attempts.

  “Daniel is doing quite well. Thank you for asking.”

  “He might be able to fix a car, but I can make one disappear.” Big Jim smiled.

  Teeny shrugged. “Why would I want my car to disappear? I need my car to get around. It’s very cute and practical. And Big Dan just gave me a great deal on replacing the belts.”

  “OK. I’m barking up the wrong tiny little tree. I get it. So what’s going on?”

  “Can we talk inside?” Miss May asked. “It’s a sensitive subject.”

  Big Jim grumbled. “I was about to grab a burger and
fries from Ewing’s Eats.”

  “No milkshake?” Teeny asked. “What are you, a monster?”

  “This won’t take long,” Miss May said.

  The inside of Big Jim’s magic shop was quaint and charming with a hint of strange. The room was a simple square with velvet maroon walls. Sturdy wood shelves displayed items for sale. There was a kit for pulling a rabbit out of a hat. There was an entire section dedicated to spells and incantations. There were dozens of trick card decks and instructional manuals on how to perform magic. Big Jim closed the door behind us as we entered.

  “Welcome to the shop.” He walked around the counter and stood beside the cash register. “Now, will you accuse me of murder already so I can get on with my day?”

  Miss May grinned. “Our reputation precedes us.”

  “You’ve solved like three thousand murders in the past year and I love to read the Pine Grove Gazette, so yeah.”

  Miss May leaned on the counter. “You got into a big argument with Beth the day she died. And she accused you of wanting to kill her. Then you got into a fight with Lillian at Beth’s funeral…it’s not a becoming look.”

  “Very impolite,” said Teeny. “And couldn’t you have worn a suit or least something business casual?”

  Big Jim sighed. “You’re right. I should’ve dressed nicer. But I didn’t even plan on going to the funeral that day. One second, I’m in my car, driving. Thinking about how poor crazy Beth had been murdered. The next minute, I’m standing in the parking lot watching the funeral from afar. I wanted to leave before anyone spotted me. I was about to get back into my car when Lillian started screaming.”

  Miss May straightened up and paced the floor of the magic shop. “You knew Beth?”

  “She came into the shop from time to time. I’ve got tons of mystical tomes and talismans. All that stuff she was into… books from my store taught her the art. Beth was troubled, you know. Half the time she came in here, it was a normal transaction. The other half of the time, she’d come in and yell about how I wanted to ruin her life and discredit her magical powers. That’s what Lillian thought of me — that I was out to besmirch Beth’s name.”

  “Tell me more about that,” said Miss May.

  Jim picked at one of his teeth. “Ah I don’t know. I never really tried to discredit Beth, but… Well, one day I had a big crowd of people in here. They had all just come from a reading with Beth. I guess she was doing readings over at Salazar’s for a while. These folks were gushing about some woman with true magical powers. She could see the future. She could speak to the dead. I tried to bite my tongue but I guess I wasn’t hungry for tongue that day. Because I started blabbing about all the supplies that Beth buys here. I said she’s not that special, blah, blah, blah. Then all those people left my shop and spread the word around town. ‘Big Jim says Beth is a fraud.’ Not my finest moment. I don’t even know why I did it. But I did, and I can’t take that back. Anyway, Lillian never forgave me. And I don’t know how Beth felt about it. She kept coming into the shop. She had that creepy calm about her.”

  “Unless she was accusing you of premeditated murder, right?” Teeny asked.

  “Yeah, that got her pretty worked up,” Big Jim said.

  I spotted a stool along the far wall. I pulled it over to the counter and took a seat. Miss May looked over at me with questioning eyes. “What? My feet hurt.”

  The truth? Jim’s story felt heavy, and it made me want to sit down. What was the problem with that, anyway? Sitting is great. Whoever invented sitting should get an award.

  “I think Sudeer’s the guy you need to talk to,” said Big Jim.

  “Why should we talk to Sudeer?” Miss May asked. She already knew, of course, but it was always good to get different angles.

  Big Jim’s eyes widened. He leaned forward and he told us all about the Beth and Sudeer situation. Jim knew every detail about Beth stalking Sudeer. He seemed convinced that Sudeer had plenty of motive to commit the murder.

  When Big Jim stopped talking, Miss May gave him a polite nod. “Thank you for the information. We’ll take it into account. Did you share this intel with the police?”

  Big Jim shrugged. “I tried to get in touch but the phone keeps ringing. I guess they’re busy trying to solve this thing.” Big Jim’s phone rang. He checked the caller ID. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”

  “No problem,” said Miss May.

  The phone rang again. Big Jim looked from Miss May, to Teeny, and then to me. “It’s a private call.”

  Miss May nudged me off of my stool. “Alright. Thanks for your time.”

  I took one last look around Big Jim’s magic shop as we left.

  This mystery just kept getting more and more mysterious.

  And I was starting to feel like finding this killer was going to be harder than pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

  20

  Love is Magic

  Miss May, Teeny, and I left Big Jim’s and headed over to the Brown Cow for a cup of coffee. The little café had always been a source of comfort for me. I loved its soothing, homey decor. And Brian, the owner, always greeted us with a smile when we entered. That day was no different. Brian had a casual, Southern California charm and a quiet confidence that put me at ease.

  “What’s up, ladies? I presume you’re here to take a break from your investigation?” Brian leaned forward. “You know I hear all the gossip. Do you have any questions for me?”

  Miss May chuckled. “Sure. Has anyone come through the coffee shop talking about how they killed Beth?”

  Brian looked up and to the left, thinking. “Now that I think of it… No. No one has come in and confessed to or talked about the murder loudly enough for me to hear. That would be awesome though. If I got that kind of information, would I be an official member of your team?”

  Miss May grinned. “You already are. You supply the coffee.”

  I nodded aggressively. “She’s right. Without coffee, none of these investigations would’ve turned out well. I need caffeine for my karate chopping. And my walking. And my talking. And my karate kicking.”

  Brian pantomimed a few karate moves. His form was abysmal but it didn’t seem worth mentioning. Instead, I pantomimed a few karate moves of my own. After a few seconds, Brian threw back his head and laughed. “I’m no match for you, Chelsea. You’re pretty cool, do you know that?”

  “She’s the sweatiest cool girl I know,” said Teeny. “Or maybe, the coolest sweaty girl I know?”

  I hung my head. “Do we really need to talk about how sweaty I get? Can’t I just be cool?”

  “No worries,” said Brian. “I already knew about the sweat. It’s pretty public information.”

  We all laughed. Although I had once been more self-conscious about my insecurities, I’d loosened up since arriving in Pine Grove. Gained a little confidence. There were bigger problems in the world than my literal tendency to clam up. Like murder, for instance.

  “Seriously though.” Teeny leaned on the counter and lowered her voice. “Have you heard any gossip about the murder? Do you have any good leads?”

  Brian groaned. “Man, I wish. I haven’t overheard a truly interesting conversation in this coffee shop in days. Mostly people talk about their favorite TV shows or what they had for breakfast. Or, if I’m lucky, they spend most of their conversation gushing about how delicious my coffee is. But too few people spill anything juicy. They spill the creamer for their coffee, but not much else. That’s why I’m always excited when you girls roll up to the shop.”

  Teeny grinned. “Excitement follows us like butter on a scone.”

  Brian wriggled his nose. “Is that an expression?”

  Teeny nodded. “It’s what they say in Britain.”

  “Teeny has been watching a lot of British television,” said Miss May. “She hasn’t quite gotten a handle on their expressions though.”

  “Blimey,” said Teeny with an indignant frown. We all laughed again, and I took a moment to appreciate how everyone
needs a little Teeny in their lives. Or a big Teeny. A lot of Teeny? Whatever. Teeny could always cheer me up, even when she was mad.

  “Why don’t you girls go take your table by the window?” Brian said. “I’ll make your drinks and bring them over.”

  “Don’t forget,” said Teeny. “I like my coffee…”

  “I know,” said Brian. “Extra whipped cream and extra sprinkles.”

  Settled into our table by the window, we started talking about the case. We all agreed neither Big Jim nor Sudeer had been great leads. Sudeer had a strong, timestamped alibi. We felt bad for intruding on his family and we felt even worse that he had been stalked by Beth.

  Big Jim’s story about Beth and Lillian had been compelling, too. Miss May and Teeny were convinced he couldn’t have had a hand in the murder but I wasn’t so sure.

  “I don’t trust the guy,” I said. “Something about him seems off.”

  Teeny dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “I agree. But that’s just because he’s a magician. You can never trust a magician. My mother taught me that and it’s one of the smartest things she ever said.”

  Miss May looked confounded. “Your mother taught you not to trust magicians?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Teeny. “Back in the 70’s I had a big magician phase. I dated three magicians in a row. Each one disappeared.”

  I laughed. “Good one.”

  “I’m serious,” said Teeny. “They all vanished into thin air. One day, we’re going to the movies and chatting and he’s trying to convince me to be his sidekick. The next day he’s gone forever.”

  “Magicians don’t like to be tied down, I guess.” I pulled my chair in and placed my elbows on the table. “But if you had all those experiences, why did your mom need to be the one who taught you to stop trusting magicians?”

  “Ah, I had a blind spot. I was about to date magician number four. I found them so charming. But she pulled me aside and talked some sense into me.”

 

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