by Jessica Beck
The question was, which one had? Were all three of them really as devoted to Van as they seemed?
Or was one of them sticking close just in case the councilman got his memory back so they could finish what they’d started if they had to?
As we headed back into town, I asked Jake, “Which of the three do you want to tackle first?”
“I was thinking about bracing Buford, then Noreen, and then Vivian,” he admitted. “How does that sound to you?”
“It appears that you’re starting with the least crazy one first and working your way up the ladder,” I told him.
Jake frowned for a moment before he spoke. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. What order would you like?”
“Oh, yours is fine,” I said. “I was just teasing you.”
“You make a good point, though. Okay, I’ve changed my mind. Vivian is first, then we track down Noreen, and then we speak with Buford. Yes, I like that order better.”
“Are you sure? I’m not trying to run this investigation, you know,” I said.
“You’re not. We’re doing it together.” Jake took a deep sigh, and then he admitted, “The truth is, most days I’d rather tackle an armed assailant than a scorned woman.”
“Why is that?” I asked, curious about his rationale.
“At least the assailant’s actions can be somewhat predicted,” he said.
“Whereas a wronged lady’s behavior can’t?” I asked.
“I’m not being sexist, Suzanne. It’s just been my experience that women feel more than men. You love deeper than we do, and when you feel betrayed, you have the capacity to hate that is startling to me, and I’ve seen a great deal as a cop.”
“You’re not talking about me specifically, are you?” I asked him with a grin.
“It was more of a universal ‘you,’” he admitted.
“I can buy that,” I said. “I’ve run into my fair share of crazy people in the past, but they haven’t been limited specifically to one sex or the other.”
“True enough. We should be watching our backs with everyone.”
“That works for me,” I said as I parked in front of Vivian’s workplace in one of the strip malls on the way out of town. For the Birds sold wild bird food supplies, and unfortunately, I doubted that it would last the year. Vivian’s boss and the store’s owner, Jenny Preston, had decided to follow my lead, in a way. She’d taken her divorce settlement, and instead of buying a donut shop as I had, she’d opted to follow her own passion of feeding wild birds. Inside the small shop, there were not only dozens of exotic seeds and blends on display, but there were more flavors and variety of suet cakes than I could have imagined, feeders that ranged from the mundane to the exotic, and an unbelievable selection of books that covered everything from bird field identification to setting up backyard habitats.
As soon as Vivian saw us, she went into a defensive posture. “If you’re here to talk about Van, I’m not interested.”
“Maybe we’re customers,” I said.
“Seriously? You two are suddenly taking an interest in feeding wild birds?” Vivian asked with clear disdain.
“We live on the edge of the town park, so naturally we’ve thought about it from time to time,” I said as I looked at a feeder based on the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, with its diagonal black and white stripes. After I glanced at the price tag, I quickly vetoed that idea. Did people actually pay that much just to give food away to birds? “Do you have some kind of starter kit?”
“This one is nice,” she said, showing us a multiple feeding station featuring sunflower seeds, thistle, and three different suet cakes. Did she work on commission or something? “I’m surprised you don’t want to talk about Van. In fact, I’m kind of shocked you aren’t at the hospital right now.”
“I have to work if I expect to get paid,” she said with a frown. “Besides, I’ve been asked to take a break from visiting Van.”
“Was that the hospital’s request?” I asked, knowing full well that Van had banished the lot of them himself.
“Does it matter? How is Van supposed to get better if we’re all hovering around him like a pack of fleas? I’ll go back later after I finish my shift. Now, about this feeder. It’s got a deluxe delivery device for the seed, and the company claims that it’s squirrel proof.”
“I didn’t think that was possible,” Jake said.
“How do you even know that?” I asked him.
“Hey, I know things,” he said with a grin.
“It’s a tough uphill battle, and the squirrels eventually figure just about everything out, but this is a good place to start,” Vivian said.
“I hope Van gets back on his feet soon,” I said. It was my prompt for Jake to set the trap that we’d discussed earlier with Van Rayburn.
“We all do,” Vivian said.
“There’s a more practical reason than just wanting him back on his feet, though,” Jake said. “Did you know his police protection is ending at five p.m. today? The chief says he can’t afford to keep an officer at the door around the clock.”
“I didn’t think it was necessary in the first place,” Vivian said stiffly. “No one’s going to go to a hospital and attack a patient.”
“I hope not,” I said. On the spur of the moment, I decided to add, “The truth is, he’s starting to get his memory back. The doctors believe it may all come flooding back to him at any moment. Isn’t that wonderful?” It was worth a shot giving each of our suspects a little push in the right direction.
“It’s excellent news,” she said, though I couldn’t tell if she was truly all that happy about hearing it.
I was about to add more when Jake said, “Thanks so much for your time. Suzanne, I need a little more time to think about feeding the birds before we take the leap. It’s a big commitment, you know.”
Vivian looked at him oddly. “What commitment? You fill the feeder when it’s empty, and when you run out of supplies, you come back here to get more.”
“We might be doing some traveling soon, though,” I said, trying to back Jake’s exit line. “Think how we’d feel if we had to leave town suddenly and the birds got hungry.”
I knew it was lame, and Vivian was about to protest when Jake said, “Thanks again,” and led me out of the store.
“Do you think your plan is going to actually work?” I asked Jake once we were outside again.
“If we don’t stress the fact too hard that Van is going to be unguarded, it’s worth a shot. After we move Van to another room and put a dummy in his place under the sheets, all we can do is wait.”
“I’ll try to be a little less enthusiastic about selling it with Buford and Noreen,” I promised.
“Hey, I can’t fault you for your passion,” Jake replied.
Next up was Buford’s fishing and fly-tying shop. At least it was nearby, located not fifty feet away from For the Birds. His shop was on the street instead of in the strip mall though, thus the troublesome parking meters he’d been trying to get removed. Hook, Line, and Sinker was another cute name, and I wondered if Donut Hearts was creative enough. Sure, it was a play on my last name, and I liked offering heart-shaped donuts occasionally, but maybe I should consider changing it to match so many other small businesses. I’d heard of other donut shops across the country named things like Glazed Over, Donut Addiction, and the Hole Donut, but somehow I just didn’t think I could part with my name being in the title, so to speak. It was amazing what an ego could justify.
This shop was loaded with fishing paraphernalia, mounted fish, and more fishing-oriented gear than I thought was possible. My eyes kind of glazed over taking it all in, but Jake seemed delighted with the displays. Different strokes, I supposed.
“Hello,” Buford greeted us when we walked in. Besides the three of us, the place was empty.
“How’s business?” Jake asked cordial
ly.
“It’s just fin,” he said nearly automatically.
I hoped we weren’t in store for more fish puns.
“Looking for something in particular?” he asked us.
Jake was studying a rod, and from where I was standing, I could see that it was priced well into three figures. It was time to drop the façade that we were shopping before he walked out with something we really couldn’t afford.
“Why aren’t you with Van?” I asked.
“I saw him this morning,” Buford said, “but just because he’s laid up doesn’t mean that the town of April Springs stops rolling. We have some important votes coming up soon, so we had to do a little strategic planning after breakfast.”
“Was he really up to doing that?” I asked.
“He’s getting better by the minute, if you ask me,” Buford said. “Besides, the town needs a strong dialogue between opposing points of view, and until Van resumes his seat on the council, I’m stepping into the void. I know you are both fans of the mayor, but everyone needs to be kept in check.”
“You sound as though you really enjoy politics,” I said.
Buford shrugged before answering. “It’s a diversion, nothing more than a hobby of mine. Fishing is my real passion. Did I ever tell you about the time I went deep-sea fishing off the coast of Florida and nearly snagged myself a…”
I didn’t have any interest in hearing about his mythical conquest, no doubt elevated in the retelling to epic proportions.
“I’m sorry, but we’re on a tight timetable. Jake is hosting his auction lunch today.”
Buford nodded. “Stories from the force, and lunch catered by the hospital culinary genius. Yours was a hot ticket, my friend.”
Jake replied, “You had quite a few bids yourself for fly-fishing in the mountains.”
Buford frowned. “It’s true enough, but it didn’t turn out the way I’d expected.”
“How so?” I asked, curious about who had won his prize.
“Betty Mathis bid on the package for her son, but he’s not going to be able to go, so Betty has decided that she wants to take his place. I’m not sure how it’s going to go. We spoke briefly about the trip, and she told me she thought fish were slimy, and she wasn’t touching any worms. We’re fly fishing, for goodness sakes.”
I didn’t know what they used for bait, but I assumed flies, hence the name. How did they get the little buggers on the hook? Then Jake held up a brightly colored lure sporting tufts of feather and lots of color. “This one’s a real beauty.”
“That’s my favorite fly. In fact, I tied it myself,” Buford said proudly.
“Really?” Jake asked.
It was time once again to put the brakes on that particular conversation. “Did you hear that Van’s losing his guard at five p.m. today? There’s no budget for round-the-clock protection, even for the head councilman.”
“We’ve got to find a way to increase our force’s budget,” Buford said. “I’ve been working on a proposal for years, but so far, it has been met with deaf ears. You’d think the mayor, a former police officer himself, would be onboard, but he claims there’s just no money in the budget. Jake, you were a cop. Would you talk to him?”
“I could try, but George has a mind of his own,” my husband opined.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Buford said.
Building on what I’d told Vivian, I repeated the false news that I’d decided to spread. “There is some good news, though. Van said it’s all starting to come back to him. He’s hopeful that by this evening, he’ll have his complete memory restored.”
Unfortunately, we never got a chance to see Buford’s reaction. All three of us turned as one as the door opened, and a man came in looking absolutely desperate. “Please. You’ve got to help me.”
“What happened? Are you in trouble?” Jake asked as he rushed to the man’s side, ready to take over any emergency situation that came his way.
“You’d better believe it. My boss asked me to go fishing with him this weekend, and I need a complete rig, from top to bottom. We’re talking clothes, equipment, guidebooks, the whole shebang.”
Buford was practically salivating at the prospect of outfitting this man, and as a fellow small business owner, I couldn’t blame him. One good customer could make or break a week, or even a month.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Buford told us even as he was turning toward the man. “My good fellow, let me assure you that you are in the best of hands. Now, let’s get started.”
The relief on the customer’s face was palpable as we left.
“I knew you liked to fish occasionally,” I told Jake once we were outside, “but I had no idea you were all that interested.”
“Suzanne, I have to do something with my time,” he said.
“What about your investigation business?” I asked, a fairly new thought he’d had.
“It turns out that most people only want private detectives for evidence in divorce cases, and I just don’t have the stomach for it.”
“Don’t worry. Things will pick up,” I said, doing my best to encourage him.
“We’ll see. In the meantime, I need something to do with my time.”
“I’m sure that between the two of us, we’ll be able to come up with something,” I said.
“That would be nice,” was all that Jake would say.
He glanced at his watch. “I need to meet up with Barton in ten minutes.”
“When is Ellie showing up?” I asked.
“In half an hour, but I promised the young chef I’d help on his end.”
“You’re not cooking, are you?” I asked, slightly aghast. My husband could grill out, and he could make chili, but that was about it.
“No, and there’s no reason to sound so horrified, either. I’m going to set the table, fetch things for Barton, and generally try to make myself useful.”
“Just don’t be too accommodating, if you know what I mean,” I said.
Jake wisely chose to ignore my comment. “What are you going to do for lunch?”
“I thought I’d pop in on Momma and Phillip,” I said. “I don’t feel like going to the Boxcar and explaining where you are a dozen times.”
“I get that,” he said, and then he kissed me soundly.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”
“I just wanted to remind you that this is lunch, nothing more and nothing less. When it’s over, I’m coming straight back to you.”
“I didn’t need the reminder, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate it,” I said.
After he was gone, I thought about going on to see Noreen without him, but in the end I decided that it might be more prudent, for both our investigation and our marriage, if I waited for my husband.
Besides, my mother was always happy to feed me, even when I protested that I was full of whatever we were having at the time. I wasn’t sure how pleasingly plump she wanted me, but if I kept going the way I was at the moment, I’d sail right past that designation into something a little less cutesy and a little closer to going up another size in clothes, something I swore that I would never do again.
I decided to give her a quick call and see if she was free.
Chapter 14
“Hey, Momma. Any plans for lunch?”
“I’m just having leftovers,” she said, “but you’re more than welcome to join me.”
My mother’s leftovers were better than most meals I could get in a restaurant, and I always leapt at the chance to eat at her table. “That sounds awesome.”
“Don’t you even want to know what we’re having?” she asked, the humor clear in her voice.
“If you made it the first time, I’ll eat it the second. Phillip won’t mind, will he?”
“Of course not. He loves having you here.
That won’t be an issue, though. My dear husband has buried himself at the library researching a new project.”
“What is it this time?” I asked. My stepfather, once the chief of police for April Springs, had developed a real interest in unsolved crimes from the past, the farther back, the better, in some cases.
“He’s researching the case of a woman who disappeared around the turn of the century. She was going to run off to be with her boyfriend, but apparently she never showed up at their rendezvous site.”
“How does he even go about digging into something like that?”
“You’d be amazed by the eyewitness accounts printed in the newspapers of the time. He also digs and finds old journals and any other source of information he can lay his hands on. Actually, he’s become quite adept at it.”
“It doesn’t surprise me to hear that at all.” I’d been driving the entire time. I’d parked my Jeep in front of her cottage, and I’d walked up to the front door as we’d been chatting. Just for fun, I rang the doorbell, and I could hear it coming through the call.
“Hold on one second, dear. Someone’s at the door.”
She opened it and saw me standing there, waving like an idiot.
“Suzanne, honestly, must you continue to behave as though you were still a child?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked as I kept talking on the phone, even though we were now face to face. “That’s what keeps me young.”
Momma didn’t play along though, as she disconnected the call from her end. “If it helps you to believe that, then by all means, continue to do so. Would you put that silly phone away and give your mother a proper hug?”
I did as she suggested. We shared a quick hug, me towering over her while at the same time feeling tiny in her presence. “Thanks for having me.”
“You know that you are always welcome here,” she said.
“So, what’s on the menu?”
“A little bit of this and a smidgen of that,” she said as I followed her to the kitchen. She’d already set two places at the small dinette where she and Phillip ate most of their meals, and the kitchen countertop sported a variety of containers.