Olivia kept the surprise off her features through sheer force of will.
“I know we were young, but it felt like true love,” Kerry said. “I had a crush on him all through high school. My dad didn’t know.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah, he’s one of the teachers at Chester High. He freaked out when he found out about Jason and—shoot, I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I’m sure you don’t want to hear my sob story.” Kerry laughed bitterly—that mirth sounded cynical, too old for a young lady of her age.
“I don’t mind,” Olivia said, glancing over at her A.
Alvira and Dodger had distanced themselves. The dog frolicked, turning in circles and dancing around Alvira’s legs. His leash had tangled around her ankles.
“I don’t get to talk to anyone about this stuff. I don’t want to make Sebby feel even worse. He’s taking this hard. He cared about Jason. And I know they had a little argument that afternoon.”
“An argument about what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe about—”
“Leave my daughter alone!” The voice snapped across the road.
Both Olivia and Kerry turned toward the source. Mr. Walter marched toward them, his entire face red with anger.
“Dad,” Kerry said.
“Get up, young lady.” Mr. Walter halted beside the bench.
Kerry scrambled to her feet and clutched her shopping bags to her stomach. “It’s no big deal, Dad. We were just talking.”
“Oh, no you weren’t. I know all about you, Olivia Cloud,” Walter said. “I know you’re into this investigation trash. I don’t want you putting pressure on my Kerry. She’s been through enough.”
“Dad, I’m fine. I’m a grown woman,” Kerry replied coldly.
Walter studied her face. “You’ve been crying.” He spun back to Olivia. “Did you make my daughter cry? I’ll report you to that, what’s his name? That Detective Keane.”
Dodger barked at the threat. He had an ear for them, and boy, he sure didn’t like it when anyone dared raise their voice to Olivia.
Mr. Walter eyed the Labrador, then switched his gaze back to Olivia’s face. “You stay away from her. Do you hear me? Stay away from my daughter, or you’ll regret it.”
“Dad!”
Mr. Walter looped his arm around his daughter’s shoulder and hurried her off toward his parked Mazda across the road.
Suspicion crept through Olivia’s belly. Could the Walter family have had something to do with Jason’s untimely demise?
Olivia walked back to Alvira and Dodger, the questions burning through her mind at a furious rate now.
Chapter Ten
Olivia untangled the leash from Alvira’s legs, then reached over and patted her doggy pal on the head. The early morning breeze caught in her chest, iced by the temperature. It didn’t bother her. She had bigger intrigues. Bigger problems, even.
“What happened?” Alvira asked.
“Mr. Walter lost his cool,” Olivia replied. “He threatened me. Said that I’d regret it if I bothered his daughter.”
Alvira sniffed and narrowed her eyes. “Horrible man.”
“Protective father,” Olivia said. “I can understand where he’s coming from, but Kerry did reveal something I didn’t know. Something really interesting.”
“What?”
Olivia rose and dusted off the knees of her jeans. “Kerry and Jason were dating. Newly dating, apparently, and she was in love with him, it seems.”
“In love? What makes you think that?”
“Just a feeling,” Olivia said. “Her pupils dilated when she spoke about him. It was slight, but it was there.”
“Pupils dilating? Really?” Footsteps scraped out of an alley between two brick buildings.
Dodger barked and growled low in his throat.
A woman with bright orange hair stepped onto the sidewalk, her cell phone in hand and extended toward Olivia. “You sound like a wannabe Sherlock Holmes.”
“I can think of worse insults,” Olivia said. “You dyed your hair, Miss Long.”
Henrietta Long, the garish reporter for the Chester Gazette, had attempted breaking into Olivia’s store during the last case. She couldn’t be trusted.
“Ugh,” Alvira said.
Dodger supported the sentiment with yet another growl.
“You were talking to Kerry Walter,” Henrietta said and adjusted her tortoiseshell glasses. She pushed them up her nose. They slid right back down again. “Why? What did you have to say to her?”
“No comment,” Olivia replied and eyed the phone in Henrietta’s grip. Why was it still extended?
“She’s recording the conversation,” Alvira said softly.
“Smart kid,” Henrietta said.
“I’m twenty-five years old.” Alvira squared her shoulders and glared at Henrietta. She’d come out of her shell in the past few months, ever since she’d come on a few of Olivia’s adventures.
“Don’t let her get to you.” Olivia patted Alvira on the arm and moved toward Henrietta instead. “I have nothing to say to you or the newspaper, Henrietta. Run along.”
“You might not have anything to say to me,” Henrietta whispered. “But I have so much to say to you. Come into the alley. Let’s talk.”
“The alley.” Olivia arched an eyebrow. “You breaking into another building, Miss Long?”
Henrietta’s face fell. The cogs in her brain whirred and clicked over—Olivia could almost see the smoke rising from the top of her bright orange hair. Finally, she clicked a button on her phone and slid it back into her pocket.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s talk off the record. Will you listen to me now?”
Olivia narrowed her eyes to slits. “Why? What do you want?”
Henrietta licked her bright purple lipstick. “Answers. Just like you. You know, we’re not that different.”
Alvira snorted.
“How so?” Olivia asked.
“You want to solve cases and find the truth,” Henrietta said. “And I—”
“Print smutty lies in the paper,” Alvira finished.
“Careful, sweetheart, wouldn’t want the next lies to be about you.” Henrietta flashed her a smile laced with confidence and menace. The grin slipped from her lips in increments. A slow descent into a somber expression. “You’re going to solve this one, aren’t you?” She directed that at Olivia, who didn’t answer the reporter but folded her arms.
“Level with me, Olivia,” Henrietta said. “We can help each other out.”
Alvira sniffed and rattled Dodger’s leash. The dog shook his fur out and sprayed a little of the melted snow from his haunches onto Henrietta’s legs.
The reported didn’t flinch. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. I don’t need you to tell me anything about Kerry Walter. I already know all about her father.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked immediately. Shoot, she shouldn’t have shown her hand there. She’d been too eager with the response.
“So you don’t know everything.” Henrietta was deeply satisfied by that. “Tank Walter is having an affair.”
“He can’t be,” Olivia said. “He’s not married.”
“He’s not married, but Mrs. Lucia Horn is.” Henrietta spread her arms wide as if expecting flowers to be showered down on her for the revelation.
“Lucia Horn.” The connection scrambled through her mind. Mrs. Horn had gotten into a car a few days prior. They hadn’t seen the car. They didn’t have a clue who it could’ve been.
“That’s right. Apparently, she was fed up with her cold, dry husband and decided on a cold, dry teacher instead.”
“You have proof of this?” Olivia asked.
Henrietta hesitated. “Well, no. But the rumor mill says that—”
“The rumor mill?” Olivia clicked her tongue. “That’s all you’re basing this on? The rumor mill in Chester said Jana Jujube ran a brothel, for heaven’s sake.”
“Where there’s smoke…”
“That’s not what I mean,” Henrietta said. “Goodness, no need to get touchy. Just, bear it in mind, okay? You’re investigating this thing, and I’ll admit I like reporting on your successful resolution of the cases. It makes a change from the dry pieces I have to write when the cops solve them. Official press releases.” She rolled her eyes. “Good luck.”
The reporter swept off down the road and around the corner, trailing cheap perfume and doubt.
Chapter Eleven
Olivia brushed off her silk blouse, a modest neckline of course, and reached for her glass of wine. The atmosphere in the Italian restaurant hummed with subtle joy, the sensation that brought families to the tables. Rustic music danced between the tables and circled Olivia’s head. She twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingertips and smiled.
“It’s nice to see you looking relaxed,” Jake said, sweeping a hand over the top of his thick brown hair.
This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t meant to be. Jake had suggested they come out for a bite after she’d called with news of her run-in with Henrietta Long. Except now, it felt very much like a date, and she couldn’t squash the squirming tension in her belly. He was just a man. Olivia Cloud didn’t need a relationship to be happy. She didn’t want one.
She cleared her throat and took a sip of her wine. “Have you heard anything else about the case?” She asked.
Jake’s disappointment curled his lips downward at the corners. “All business, eh?”
“It’s not business,” Olivia said and swept up her folded napkin. She dabbed her lips. “It’s the case. It’s more important than business, don’t you think?”
Jake didn’t answer. He swigged his beer and placed the bottle on the checked tablecloth with a clink.
“Unless you want to talk about something else?” she asked and tilted her chin upward. She studied him down the bridge of her nose.
“You’re quite independent.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Sorry,” Jake said. “I meant you’re totally independent. You don’t need anyone.”
Olivia chuckled. “That’s not true. I need my A’s and my son. And Dodger, of course.”
“But that’s all.”
They couldn’t enjoy an awkward silence because of the bursts of laughter from the other tables. The tension expanded between them and threatened to snap.
Olivia exhaled. “Jake, I—”
“The case,” he said loudly. He grabbed a piece of bread from the basket in the center of the table. He placed it on his side plate, then picked up his butter knife. “I heard from my contact again.”
“Oh?” Olivia took a piece of bread, too, but just to keep her hands busy.
“Yeah,” he said and swished a curl of butter from the white ramekin beside the bread basket. “They haven’t given me much more to go on, but I do know that they’ve narrowed down their suspect list.”
“I thought Sebastian was their prime suspect,” Olivia whispered. She waited for Jake to finish with the butter.
He nudged the ramekin toward her with his knuckles. “I thought so, too, but it appears that’s not the case. My contact—”
“Who’s your contact?”
“I can’t say,” Jake replied. “I don’t want to compromise her.”
A spike of envy rammed into her core. Goodness, she hadn’t expected that. “I understand,” Olivia said. “Please, continue.”
“Thanks,” Jake said and finished buttering his bread with a flourish. He dropped the knife to the table, and it struck the side of his plate with a clatter. “The cops have three main suspects. Kerry Walter, Sebastian Cloud, and Mr. Horn.”
“Kerry? That’s weird,” Olivia said.
“Why?”
“Because I spoke to Kerry today, and she seemed heartbroken about Jason’s death. She said that they were dating. It was a relatively new relationship, but still.” Olivia didn’t tell him about the whole ‘pupil dilation’ thing. Henrietta Long had thought her mention of it was absurd.
“They’re still considering Sebastian,” Olivia said and scooped up some butter. She held it on the end of her knife and stared at the yellow glob. “Why?”
“I don’t have that kind of information yet, but there’s got to be some connection they’ve picked up on that we’ve missed.”
“Oh, wait,” Olivia said. “Kerry mentioned that Sebastian had an argument with Jason on the afternoon before he was killed. Could that be why they’re interested in Sebastian?”
“Maybe. I won’t know until I get more information,” Jake said.
“Or until we get to the bottom of this case.” Olivia swiped the butter on her bread. “I understand why Horn is a suspect after the way he’s treated Jason, but why Kerry?”
“I don’t think they’re going on circumstantial evidence, Olivia. I think they have something tangible which links these three to the crime.”
“Something tangible?”
Jake nodded. “Like DNA evidence or fingerprints. I can’t deduce exactly what, but yeah. It’s got to be something more than a hunch.” He lifted his bread and took a bite.
“But they haven’t made an official statement about the suspects, right?” Olivia didn’t read the papers often, and she didn’t own a TV. The news stressed her out, and if anything serious happened, Alberta would be sure to let her know. Albie was the local gossip in the Block-a-Choc Shoppe.
“No, they haven’t. They’re still building a case,” Jake said. “Like, I said, I need more information before I can make any solid deductions.”
“We,” Olivia said. She pressed her lips together. “I mean for the case.”
“I know what you mean, Olivia. You’ve made it super clear.” Jake finished off his bread and dusted off his palms into his plate.
“Jake, I didn’t mean anything by that.” Olivia couldn’t keep up here. One second they were friends, the next he wouldn’t speak to her and now—
The waitress stopped beside their table. “Are we ready to order appetizers?” she asked and smiled at them both.
“Sure. I’ll start with the calamari, if you’ve got it,” Jake said.
The waitress scribbled down his order and turned to Olivia. “And you, ma’am?”
Olivia bit her bottom lip. Why were there so many complications? She needed to focus on Sebastian and the case, not Jake’s strange attitude toward her.
“Ma’am?”
“I’ll just have the crumbed mushrooms to start,” Olivia replied at last.
Jake sat back in his seat and smiled at her. A perfectly friendly smile, of course, but somehow it made Olivia feel even worse.
Chapter Twelve
Jake walked down the sidewalk beside her, puffed up in his winter coat.
Olivia tugged on her gloves to straighten them and breathed out mist. Her nose stung from the cold. “Thanks for walking me home,” she said. “It wasn’t necessary.”
“There’s technically a murderer on the loose in Chester. It’s entirely necessary,” he said, then offered her his arm.
She took it, and they continued on their path toward the Block-a-Choc Shoppe, and Dodger, who’d probably waited up for her, snuffled at the gate that separated her apartment from the store below it.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier,” Jake said. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“You didn’t,” Olivia said, without a hint of pride. He hadn’t made her feel uncomfortable. Just sad that she’d disappointed him and herself, somehow. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the why just yet.
The clouds had cleared, and the inky black sky was punctuated by stars that sparkled coldly above their heads. Wrought-iron lampposts cast light on their path, but the road was empty of cars.
Olivia loved the peace and quiet of it.
They rounded the corner and entered the street that led up to the front of the store.
“I like you, Olivia,” Jake said, t
hen swallowed. He laughed under his breath. “Wow, I sound like an idiot.”
They halted in front of the glass front door of the shop. “You don’t sound like an idiot.”
“I know you’re not interested in me in that way. And that’s okay. Maybe I just need some distance from you to deal with whatever these feelings are.”
She needed Jake’s help for the case. This confession was the last thing she’d expected.
“Jake, it’s not that I’m not interested in you,” she said. “I’m just more concerned with the case and helping my son right now.”
“I understand,” he said, and his expression lightened.
Olivia hadn’t made any promises, and neither had he. She preferred it this way, because right now there were more important—
“Hey, what’s that?” Jake asked, and pointed past her at the front door of the shop.
Olivia spun toward it.
A square note was attached to the front door, stationary despite the slight breeze that teased the hem of Olivia’s trench coat.
Jake whipped his cell out of his jacket pocket and fumbled it closer. He switched on his flashlight and directed the beam at the note.
Olivia stepped closer. A lacework of golden markings decorated the white background of the paper.
“Come see Madame Mystery,” Olivia read aloud.
She grasped the note and detached it from the door. Except it wasn’t a note. It was a card. She flipped it over and gasped.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“It’s a tarot card,” she replied and held it out for him to see.
The word STRENGTH ran along the top edge of the card, and beneath it, a blond woman pried open a lion’s jaws. She wore a white dress, and her red lips were stretched into a wicked smile.
“What on earth?” Jake took the card from her. “Who would send you this?”
Olivia chewed her bottom lip. “Madame Mystery, apparently. Do you know that name?”
Jake flipped the card and read the curved handwriting on its back. “Actually, no,” he said. “I’ve never heard of her, and I’ve lived in Chester a long time. She might be new.”
Fudgement Day (Chocolate Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 4