Assault and Buttery

by Kristi Abbott

  “Yes, but we both know that I didn’t poison anybody. That means there has to be another common denominator.” Why on earth would Justin want to poison Marta Hansen? It made no sense. She had nothing to do with the city council race.

  He stretched and yawned. “You’re right. How do you want to start?”

  “Let’s look at who visited Loving Arms after I visited Marta. I bet Dan has a copy of the guest register.”

  “Sucker bet.” Garrett got up and started pulling his clothes back on. “Of course he does.”

  Wow. Cooperation made everything so much easier, didn’t it?

  • • •

  Garrett drove Sprocket and me to his office, then we walked to City Hall, a path that took us directly past the diner. I thought about taking a detour. I didn’t think I could bear to see it, but that seemed more childish than I wanted to be. So walk we did.

  A banner hung outside of the diner. It read: “Not Under New Management.”

  Inside, the place was bustling.

  I walked in and the entire room went silent. Megan looked up from pouring weak coffee for Cody Moran and saw me. She set the pot down so hard I was afraid it might crack, and made a beeline for me. She grabbed me by the shoulder, turned me around and marched me to the door.

  Sprocket growled. I looked around for Antoine and spotted him in a corner. I spread my feet and refused to budge.

  Megan dropped my arm. “Please, Rebecca,” she whispered. “Let’s talk outside.”

  I shook myself back to my senses and said, “Certainly.” Sprocket and I walked out onto the sidewalk and waited for her to join us. “So what’s with the bum’s rush there, Megan? And what’s with the sign?”

  She studied a crack in the sidewalk. “I found out why no one came to our grand opening last night.”

  I wanted desperately to know, too. “Why?”

  Now she looked up and stared right into my eyes. “Because of you.”

  “Me?” I felt stung. She might as well have slapped me.

  “They, uh, all are afraid you might inadvertently poison them.” She cocked her head a little as if to gauge my reaction.

  Understanding sunk in. “They think I might poison them because you told everyone I poisoned Lloyd McLaughlin.”

  She gave the tiniest of nods.

  “So our joint endeavor was doomed from the start. By you.” The irony of it would have made me laugh if it hadn’t been breaking my heart.

  She nodded again.

  “So you’re going right back to serving the same poorly prepared glop you’ve always served because then your clientele know they won’t die from eating your cooking.” People. Am I right?

  Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not glop.”

  I rounded on her. “You tasted the difference between what you usually do and what we did. You know you’re capable of more.”

  She sighed. “I get it. Yes. I just can’t do it now. And I especially can’t have you associated with it in any way. You’re going to have to stay away.”

  “If I find out you’re using my recipes, I will . . . I will . . .” I couldn’t figure out what I’d do, so I let my words trail off.

  “You can pull my hair really hard if I use your recipes,” she offered. “And kick me.”

  I looked up, surprised. Megan looked honestly regretful. I felt tears spring to my eyes. “Deal.” Sprocket and I turned to walk away down the sidewalk.

  “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I really am,” Megan called after us.

  I kept walking.

  • • •

  Vera greeted me when I came in. “I didn’t expect you back so soon, Rebecca. Aren’t you sick of this place?”

  “This side of the bars is really different,” I said. “Maybe I could see Cathy a little later?”

  Vera led me down the hall toward Dan’s office. “Maybe. We’ll see what Dan says. He just finished questioning Justin. He might have some thoughts about who gets to visit prisoners at the moment.”

  “What did Justin say?” I asked Vera.

  She shook her head. “I’ll let Dan decide what to tell you.”

  I picked up my pace and nearly ran her over. “So?” I asked as we burst into his office. “What did Justin say?”

  “A lot.” Dan leaned back in his chair.

  “And?” I slipped into the chair across from him.

  Dan brought his chair down with a thump. “He confessed to blackmailing Chris and Taylor and himself.”

  “Just like that? He confessed?” I was dumbstruck.

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly a big deal. Chris and Taylor don’t want to press charges because they don’t want their affair to go public. Their respective spouses would probably not be too happy about it,” Dan said.

  I could see that, but it wasn’t Justin’s only issue. “What about blackmailing himself?”

  Dan shrugged. “As far as I can tell, it’s not a crime.”

  “Could you charge him with wasting your time? Making a false police report? Something like that?” There had to be something. You couldn’t run around blackmailing yourself willy-nilly and get away with it, could you?

  “Sure. Or I could have if he’d ever made a police report. He gave his little press conference and that was it. He never reported it.” Dan seemed remarkably calm.

  I was not. “What about poisoning Lloyd McLaughlin? That has to be a crime. That’s murder!”

  “Justin swears he didn’t do it.”

  “He’s lying.”

  “It’s totally a possibility. It’s just . . .”

  “Just what?”

  Dan spread his hands in front of him. “He was pretty broken down by the time he started confessing to the blackmail. I’m pretty sure he would have admitted it if it had been him.”

  “It had to be him, though.” I sunk back in my chair. Dan wasn’t a human lie detector. He could be fooled.

  “Does it? There’s absolutely nothing connecting Justin to the poisoning, and he swears he didn’t do it.”

  I sat back in my chair, stunned. “So that’s it? He gets away with all of it?”

  “He gets away with the stuff that isn’t a crime.” Dan frowned. “I actually believed him about the poisoning. He confessed to the blackmail as soon as I confronted him, but he held fast on the poisoning.”

  I thought that through. “So we have to find a way to tie him to the poisoning.”

  “I’ve looked at everything surrounding Lloyd’s poisoning. I can’t find any way to connect Justin to it except that the popcorn was originally meant for him.” Dan rubbed his face. His eyes looked tired.

  “What about Marta Hansen?” I asked. “Can you tie him to her?”

  “Not that I know of, but I haven’t looked that hard.” He sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “How about I look? How about I start with the guest register from Loving Arms? Did anyone who’s running for city council visit Marta at Loving Arms?” I asked him.

  “I didn’t see any candidate’s name on the guest register,” Dan said.

  “Darn.” Well, that was another avenue shut down. Or was it? “They could have signed a different name or maybe just pretended to sign in. If you come in while the receptionist is on the phone or talking to someone else, you could easily slip in without putting anything in the book.”

  “I suppose so,” Dan said, his words slow as if he was thinking.

  “There could be something there that doesn’t mean anything to you, but might to me,” I said. “Can I see?”

  Dan pulled a file out of his desk and handed it over to me. “Knock yourself out.”

  Inside the file were photocopies of the desk register. I flipped through to the day I visited. After my name, I saw Olive Hicks, the Grand Lake Elementary Little Helpers, Gilberto Fowler, Joe Nguyen, Sabrina Rice and the Gr
and Lake First Community Church Choir.

  “They don’t list the names of the people in these groups.” I tapped the list with my forefinger.

  Dan looked over to see what I indicated. “It would take a lot of space. The choir from the First Community Church has like thirty-five people in it.”

  “Isn’t that the church that Justin Cruz goes to? The one that he was supposedly breaking into to do good deeds?” My heart started to speed up. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the connection.

  Dan’s eyes widened. “Yeah.”

  “Is he in the choir?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Could you find out?” I pressed.

  “I’m on it.” He dialed and in minutes was connected to Reverend Lee. They talked for a few minutes, then he hung up. “Justin’s not in the choir.”

  “Darn.” It would have been nice if the connection had been that easy to make.

  Dan rubbed his face. “What reason would he have to poison Marta Hansen anyway?”

  “To implicate me in the poisonings? Otherwise I don’t see a link between Marta and the city council at all. Do you? When I first heard, my first thought was that someone was trying to frame me.” Again. I still smarted over the rumors a certain person had started about me back when my dear friend Coco was murdered.

  “No. I don’t see any other connection. Someone wanted you to be blamed for the poisonings. Why you? You barely know any of these people who are running. Or do you have some grudge with someone that I don’t know about?” He frowned.

  “No. No grudges you’re not aware of. I don’t know why someone would be framing me, either.” Dead end, then. I sighed. “Can I see the register again?”

  “Sure.” He slid the photocopy across to me.

  I looked over the list again. “What about that school group? What were they there for?”

  Dan smiled. “They come in and read to people. It’s actually very sweet. Each kid is assigned to a particular person.”

  “Do we know what kid was assigned to Marta Hansen?” I asked.

  “Let me call and see if I can find out.” Once again, he dialed.

  I busied myself combing my fingers through Sprocket’s fur. Dan got put on hold a time or two, but finally was connected to the social director at Loving Arms. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Really? Thanks. That’s very helpful.”

  He hung up the phone. “Marta’s assigned reader is Ada Denton, Sheri’s daughter.”

  I froze looking directly into Sprocket’s eyes. Sprocket, who Sheri had said had a beautiful aura. I looked up at Dan. “Sheri? Organic Sheri? Sheri who won’t let peanuts into a classroom in case there’s a kid that’s allergic? Sheri who recycles other people’s trash for them?”

  “I know. Ridiculous. But that’s the only city council connection I see.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten. The subpoena for the security tapes at Brixton Accounting should be ready. I’ll see if there’s anything on them that’ll help us.”

  “Okay. I’m going to head to the library to look at old phone books.”

  He gave me a funny look. “Should I ask?”

  “Probably not.”

  Fifteen

  “Hi, Juanita.” I slipped off my coat and brushed the snowflakes from my hair.

  Juanita rolled up. “Well, hey there, jailbird. Nice to see you out and about.”

  I smiled. It was cold, but the light snow falling made it kind of fun. Like living in a snowglobe. “It’s nice to be out and about.”

  “How can I help you?” she asked.

  “I was hoping to look at those old phone books we talked about.” I trembled a bit with anticipation.

  “Right this way.” She motioned for me to follow her. “Is this about that same diary?”

  “It is. I think I figured out her code. It wasn’t really tricky once I had a little more information. She just shifted the letters around.” Still, if you didn’t have some basic information, it would have been enough to obfuscate certain identities.

  We came to the back wall of the library. “Here they are in all their glory.” Juanita gestured to a huge set of shelves groaning under the weight of a lot of thick old books. “The 1950s should be down that way.”

  They were. It only took me a few minutes to find 1954. I hauled the book over to one of the long tables and flipped it open. I wanted to know who everyone was, but mainly I wanted to know the identity of our possible secret Nazi. I flipped to the Vs and scanned through. It took a few minutes, but eventually I found ten people whose initials were EV. Earl Valentine, Everett Vallins, Emmanuel Vane, Edgar Vanwell, Eli Vaughn, Eric Vernon, Eugene Vickers, Edwin Vincent, Edmund Vine and Elliott Vinton. One name stood out to me. It was familiar. Very familiar.

  Sheri Denton’s grandfather.

  Sheri who was running for city council. Sheri whose daughter visited Marta Hansen at Loving Arms after I had left the popcorn there. Sheri who hadn’t been blackmailed or poisoned or exposed as a thief.

  I shook my head. She was also Sheri who saw auras and wanted the community to put the needs of children as our top priority. Sheri who recycled for everyone. Sheri whose grandfather was known for his philanthropy around town.

  Could he be our secret Nazi? If Sheri found out, she’d be crushed, humiliated, horrified. What would it do to her bid for city council? She was running on a platform of love and acceptance and being good to one another and to the earth. Would that all be undercut if people found out she was the descendant of a concentration camp guard?

  I took my list and headed toward the door of the library.

  “Find what you needed?” Juanita called as I walked past the checkout desk.

  “I’m not sure.” I hoped I hadn’t. Sprocket and I walked back to City Hall and had Vera lead us in to see Dan. Again.

  “You’re not going to believe who might be the descendant of Grand Lake’s secret Nazi,” I told Dan.

  “You’re not going to believe who I saw messing with Janine’s panniers on the videotape,” he replied.

  In unison, we said, “Sheri Denton.”

  Then we both said, “What?”

  I sank into the chair. “Sheri Denton put the poison in the popcorn?”

  “I don’t have definitive proof, but it’s starting to look that way. And her grandfather was a Nazi?” Dan sank back in his chair.

  Did I have enough to say that Edwin Vincent was a Nazi? “I don’t have definitive proof, either.”

  Dan squared his shoulders. “Well, how about we start looking for some definitive proof.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Her house seems like a good start,” Dan said.

  Of course it did, but it wasn’t as if we could waltz in and start poking around. “Won’t you need a warrant?”

  “Yes. I’m going to get on that right now. What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “Did anybody ever look into the anonymous note that helped the newspaper bust Cathy?” I had promised her that I would find out who had turned her in. It seemed like a good place to start.

  “No. At least, not that I know of,” Dan answered, but he was already distracted, making notes for his search warrant.

  “What if it’s one more link to Sheri?” I could be killing two birds with one stone. Or maybe it was actually one bird with two stones. Whatever. There was going to be a dead bird.

  Dan looked at me thoughtfully. “Then it would be good to know.”

  “I think I’ll work on that tomorrow.”

  He smiled. “Take Vera with you. Make sure she’s the only one who handles whatever evidence you might come across.”

  • • •

  The next morning, Sprocket and I walked to City Hall and explained to Vera what I wanted to do and why I wanted to do it.

  “You want to go where?”

  “To the n
ewspaper to talk to them about how they got the information on Cathy.”

  Vera eyed me with some suspicion. “I would have thought you’d have had enough Cathy.”

  I had. I also had at least an ounce or two of compassion. “I made a promise to her.”

  Vera sat back in her chair and looked at me. “No one does anything for Cathy. Not even her husband.”

  “I’m aware.” That was where that compassion thing came in. I’d only been locked up for a few days and I wasn’t sure I would have made it without my friends.

  Cathy didn’t have friends. I wasn’t saying that it wasn’t her own fault she didn’t have friends. She was a user. That was for sure. Users don’t make for good friends. I still felt bad for her.

  Vera spoke into her radio and then said to me, “Hold on. I’ll get my coat.”

  We headed out to walk the three blocks over to the newspaper office. Vera shivered as we set outside. “I can’t believe it’s winter again.”

  I glanced over at her as she wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck. “You know it happens pretty much every year.”

  “And every year I dread it.” She glanced over at me. “Don’t you?”

  I looked around. The sun had come out and the air nearly sparkled. “Nope. In fact, I can’t wait for the first real snowfall.”

  She shook her head. “Certifiable. That’s what you are.”

  “Possibly.” I smiled.

  I hadn’t been sure what to expect at the offices of the Grand Lake Sentinel. They had not been my biggest fans. Pretty much every time I’d placed a foot wrong since I’d come home, they’d splashed it across the front page. Maybe they’d hiss at me. Or look at me with stink eyes as we walked in. I braced myself. I’d faced down plenty of people who didn’t wish me well. I could handle it. I would handle it. I’d do it in pursuit of clearing up whatever was happening with the city council and clearing my name and letting Cathy face down her accuser.

  The young woman behind the front desk leapt up as we walked in. “Rebecca Anderson!” she said. “Oh, my gosh. What can we do for you?”