Raspberry Revenge

by Jessica Beck

  “I love it,” I said. I glanced at the clock and said, “We don’t have much time to deliver these while our suspects are still at work.”

  “Let’s go then,” she said.

  I turned to Momma. “Are you sure you want to go with us when we deliver these?”

  “I’m a part of this group, Suzanne, and I plan on seeing it out until the end.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go. I’ll ride up front with George, and you and Grace can ride in back, if nobody minds.”

  “Nobody cares about the seating chart,” George said eagerly. “Let’s move it.”

  We all piled into George’s black Suburban and headed off to our first suspect’s house. The notes might flush out a killer, or they might yield nothing, but at that point, doing something, anything, was better than doing nothing.

  “Do you know where everyone lives?” I asked George as we left Donut Hearts.

  “No, but while Grace was busy writing those notes, your mother and I looked everyone’s addresses up in the phone book. I’ve already entered them into my GPS, so we’re all set.”

  “Where are we going first?” I asked him, feeling my heart rate begin to increase. It was going to be a little risky dropping off those notes, and after much debate, I’d worn the others down into allowing me to make the deliveries myself. After all, it had been my idea, so it was only fitting that I be the one who took the risks. Once we’d settled on a plan, I’d had an internal debate about whether to tell my husband what we were up to or not.

  Ultimately, I’d decided to make the call. After all, long after this case was resolved, I’d have to live with him, so I owed the man that much at least. Was it wrong that I was relieved when my call went straight to voicemail? I’d left a short message telling him that we had a plan and that I’d call him later, and then I’d turned my ringer to silent. At least I’d tried, or so I told myself as I waited for George’s answer.

  “First up is Megan Gray’s house,” he said. When we got there, I was relieved to see that her car wasn’t in the driveway. Megan lived in a cute little bungalow that couldn’t have been more than eight hundred square feet. Though Christmas was long past, there were still lights hanging from the roofline and a deflated plastic Santa lying in a heap in the front yard. I reached back, and Grace handed me the first note, now neatly folded.

  I took it from her as Momma said, “Good luck, and be quick.”

  “I’m not planning on lingering,” I said as I got out of the Suburban. I didn’t even close the door. Tucking the note into the doorjamb, I rushed back, my heart now beating wildly. It didn’t slow until we were on our way to the next house on our list.

  “Are you sure I can’t do the next one?” Grace asked from the back.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this. Besides, I need you and Momma to keep a lookout for me from back where you are.”

  “If you’re sure,” she said, though she was obviously not convinced of my logic. She was right; I was taking the risk, and there was no room for discussion or debate.

  “Next?” I asked George.

  He glanced at the GPS. “We’re heading to Wendy Crouch’s place.”

  Wendy’s home wasn’t much larger than Megan’s had been, but where the former had been cutely done, this one was in bad need of repair. In place of a front yard, most of the ground had been dug up into an enormous garden, and there was even a small standing greenhouse where I could see plants still thriving inside, despite the frosts and even light snows we’d had. I could see a few tomato plants inside, a row of scallions, and some green bell peppers, all producing lavishly. There was an extension cord running from the house to the greenhouse, where a heater must have kept the space warm enough to extend the growing season this long. Again, I hurried to the door and slipped the note above the doorknob, wedging it into the frame and hoping that it didn’t fall out and blow away.

  “I never took her for a home gardener,” I said when I got back in.

  “You never know, do you?” Momma said. “I never saw the point of it, though your grandfather loved his gardens.”

  “Plural?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. Some were devoted to vegetables, but mostly he grew sunflowers.”

  “I’ve seen the pictures,” I said. “I just never realized they were his.”

  “If you’d ever seen him doting on them the way he did, you wouldn’t have any question about it. He was quite the hobbyist.”

  “As interesting as that all is, shouldn’t we be heading for Curtis’s house?” Grace asked.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about something else,” George said.

  “Anything in particular?” I asked him.

  “No, but I’m sure it will come to me. Let’s go.”

  We got to Curtis’s house, a nice place in one of April Springs’s better neighborhoods, when George pulled up short.

  “What’s wrong? Is he home?”

  “No, but check that out,” the mayor said.

  I looked where he was pointing and saw that there was a massive amount of discarded things at the curb in front of Curtis Daniels’s front yard.

  “Is he moving?” Momma asked as she and Grace saw it as well.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” I said. “I thought he was gung ho on running the business by himself. Isn’t that the impression that you got, Momma?”

  “I’ve heard nothing about him leaving town,” she said.

  “Should I still put the note by the door?” I asked.

  “We might as well follow through, though I suspect we’ve found our killer,” my mother answered.

  “Do you really think so?” Grace asked her.

  “I’m the least experienced of all of us, but doesn’t it seem rather telling that one of our remaining suspects is leaving town so abruptly? Isn’t that the very same reason some people believed that you yourself had something to do with Harley’s demise, George?”

  “It’s true enough, as coincidental as it turned out to be,” the mayor agreed.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I got out, raced toward the front door, dropped off the note, and then hurried back. On my way back to George’s vehicle, I glanced a little closer at the pile. “He’s definitely leaving,” I said as I got back in and closed the door.

  “What makes you so sure?” George asked.

  “He’s throwing out Christmas decorations, a lawnmower, and a bunch of other equipment that he’d be needing this spring if he were staying. I’m guessing that he’s going to be traveling light, wherever he’s headed.”

  “What do we do now?” Momma asked. “I still don’t understand this part of it. How will we know if our message has its intended affect?”

  “There’s just one way to the interstate from all three houses,” George said. “Chances are good that whoever’s leaving is going to be in a hurry, and they won’t be taking back roads. We’ll find a place to park on Viewmont Avenue and wait to see who takes the bait. Any ideas on where we should park?”

  “Why not beside my building?” I asked.

  “Suzanne, Donut Hearts is on Springs Drive,” George reminded me.

  “I know that,” I said. “I’m talking about the old lawyer’s offices on Viewmont Avenue.”

  “You own that?” George asked, clearly surprised.

  “My dad left it to me,” I said. The words felt odd in my mouth, but it made me kind of proud nonetheless.

  “Then that’s where we’ll wait,” George said.

  I glanced back at my mother and smiled. She answered with a faint smile of her own. Was that a tear in her eye? I knew that she’d moved on and found love again with Phillip, but a part of her heart would always belong to my father, and there was something about that that gave me great comfort.

  George backed the Suburban beside the building where anyone in a hurry to leave town wouldn’t be able to see it, an
d then we waited.

  “What do we do in the meantime?” Grace asked.

  “We could go in and check out my place,” I said. “Do you have the keys, Momma?”

  “Sorry, they’re at home,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I can get them later.”

  “Before the night is out,” she promised.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have any playing cards,” Grace said.

  “Wouldn’t it be kind of awkward, given the way we’re seated?” Momma asked her.

  “We could always play Twenty Questions,” I suggested.

  “Or perhaps we could just wait silently for something to transpire,” Momma answered.

  “Okay,” Grace said, “but I had a doozy.”

  “Is it raspberry jam?” I asked her with a smile.

  After a moment’s silence, Grace asked, “How did you know that?”

  “That was the answer you used the last time we played.”

  “Suzanne, that had to be twenty years ago. How could you possibly remember?” she asked me.

  “It’s easy. I hold onto the things that are important to me,” I said.

  “You’re one odd bird, you know that, don’t you?” George asked good-naturedly beside me.

  “Thanks. I’m going to take that as a compliment, considering that it’s coming from someone even odder.”

  “Suzanne,” Momma scolded me as if I were little Heather demanding my change.

  “Dot, she’s right, and what’s worse, she knows it. I don’t mind being a little odd.”

  “A little?” Grace asked with a laugh.

  “Said the kettle to the pot,” George answered.

  “I’d resent that remark, if it weren’t so true,” she answered.

  Half a dozen cars passed us as we waited, but none of them belonged to any of our suspects. I was about to give it up as a bad try when a car finally came by that I recognized.

  It was kind of hard to miss, given the fact that the acting chief of police for April Springs was driving it, none other than my own dear, sweet husband, Jake.

  Chapter 23

  As Jake approached my window, I rolled it down and told the others, “Let me do the talking, okay?”

  They all agreed, and when Jake got to me, I saw that he wasn’t smiling.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked curtly.

  “Can’t four friends get together and have a chat without arousing police suspicion?” I asked him with a smile.

  Jake wasn’t amused. He glanced over at George. “Mayor, I expect this kind of behavior from the three of them, but you used to be a cop yourself. You should know better.”

  His words cut George deeply; I could see that in one glance at the mayor’s expression. “Don’t be so hard on him, Jake.”

  “I’ll get to you in a second,” he said as he held a hand up in my direction. He was genuinely angry with me, and my blood ran cold feeling his ire. Had I jeopardized my relationship with my husband in my desire to find the same killer he was looking for?

  “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” he asked, turning back to George.

  “Jake Bishop, you shouldn’t use that tone of voice with your wife, or the mayor, for that matter,” Momma said from the back, though in my mind I’d been shouting at her telepathically to keep quiet.

  “All due respect, ma’am, but you need to keep your thoughts to yourself until I’m finished here,” Jake said.

  I glanced back at Momma and saw her face go white. She got the message, loud and clear, and for once, Grace wasn’t smiling either. We’d all managed to land ourselves in some serious hot water with my husband. Once he was satisfied that we weren’t going to say anything else, he turned back to George. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  “You know that I don’t believe in excuses,” George said, “but I got so frustrated with having this cloud of suspicion hanging over me that I had to do something. I’m sorry.”

  Jake took that in, and then he nodded. “I get that.”

  “Jake, if it helps, we’re all sorry, too,” I said.

  He frowned for a moment longer, and then he sighed. “Suzanne, I know you’re trying to catch Harley’s killer too, but you all just about ruined my own plans for catching the person who did it. You might have spooked them with those notes and made it nearly impossible for us to catch them.”

  “How did you know what we were doing?” I asked him.

  “Don’t you think I’m working the same list of suspects that you are? I have my people watching all three suspects. The first one radioed me when Curtis found his note, and a minute later, I got the message that Wendy had found hers, too.”

  “How did they react? Did Megan get hers?” I asked, wondering if our efforts had been for naught.

  “We’ll never know, because I had my deputy pull her note before she got home. That’s how I knew what you four were up to. As to the others, there was nothing other than a quick glance around, and then they both went inside, where they still are, as far as I know. This isn’t the way I do business. I’m not about to stand for you mucking into my case this heavy-handedly. I thought we had an agreement.”

  “I don’t know that I violated the letter of it,” I said in a weak defense of myself.

  “Maybe not, but you sure trampled all over the spirit of it,” he replied. After another moment of silence, he looked at George and said, “Mr. Mayor, consider this my formal resignation, effective midnight tonight, whether I manage to unmask the killer or not. Stephen Grant is ready for the job, and frankly, I’ve had my fill of it.”

  “Don’t be hasty, Jake,” George answered. “I said that I was sorry.”

  “I’m not worried about you so much,” he said. “I took this job originally as a favor to the community, but it’s not worth the strain it’s putting on my marriage.”

  “Jake, you should at least sleep on it,” I said.

  “Suzanne, this has been coming for a while, and we both know it,” he said tenderly as he reached out and touched my hand lightly. “I don’t want to be on opposite sides with you anymore. Is that so hard to understand?”

  “No, I get it,” I said. I knew my husband well enough to realize that if he said that he was finished, then he was finished. I was just glad that he’d chosen me over working in law enforcement. Then again, that was why he’d left the state police in the first place, in order to be with me.

  “Jake, may I say something?” Momma asked softly. I’d nearly forgotten that she was there, she’d been so silent.

  “You may,” he said. “I’m sorry if I was rough on you.”

  “You were quite restrained, given the provocation,” she said with a smile. “I, too, wanted to add my apologies.”

  “Me, too,” Grace said. “Sorry.”

  Jake looked at us all steadily, and then he began to smile, which turned into open laughter. “Wow, I didn’t realize how much I wanted to quit this job until I actually did it. Suzanne, are you going to be okay having me underfoot all of the time?”

  “I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” I said with a smile of my own. There had been some additional strain to our relationship since he’d taken over the chief-of-police job, and I realized myself how happy I was that he was quitting. Whatever tomorrow brought, we’d deal with it, together.

  “So, what do we do in the meantime?” I asked Jake. “Are you just throwing in the towel?”

  “No, I’m going to do my best to wrap this up before midnight,” he replied. With a grin, he added, “After all, I’m pretty sure who did it.”

  “Would you care to share that information with us?” George asked in a humble voice.

  “Why not? As long as you all promise to drop this right here and now,” Jake said.

  We all agreed, given the circumstances. He nodded. “My money is on Curtis Daniels.
He had the most to gain by Harley’s death, and he had another reason to kill him. I had an accountant friend go through the company’s books, and Harley was stealing from him with both hands. It’s pretty clear that Curtis found out, and he killed Harley as revenge for stealing the money.”

  “What about the other two suspects?” I asked.

  “I suppose they each are still possibilities, but we’ll know soon enough. After I leave here, I’m going to pick Curtis up before he can go on the run, and we’re going to have ourselves a nice long talk. He put his house on the market this morning. Didn’t you see the junk piled up outside his place?”

  “We did,” I said. “We thought it was suspicious, too.”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll have him by midnight. Now, don’t you folks have other places to be?”

  George started his Suburban as he nodded. “I’ll miss having you run things, Jake.”

  “I’ll still be close by, George.”

  “I’m counting on it,” the mayor said, and then he drove us back to the donut shop, where our cars were parked, as Jake went after Curtis Daniels.

  “Well, that’s that,” Momma said. “I have to say, the ending of the case was rather anticlimactic, wasn’t it?”

  “I’m just glad that no one else got hurt, besides Harley, of course,” I said. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s a win for the good guys, and that’s really all that counts.”

  “So that’s it, then,” George said after we all got out. “I’d better go find Grant and tell him the good news. After midnight, he’s chief again.”

  “Not just acting chief this time, right?” Grace asked. “Mayor, it’s not fair to keep putting the interim label on him. Either give him the job outright, or find someone else.”

  “Are you speaking for him now, Grace?” George asked.

  “She’s right, you know,” Momma said. “He’s a good man, and he deserves a chance. You heard Jake. He’s ready.”

  “Fine. No qualifiers. Stephen Grant is the new April Springs chief of police come midnight tonight.” He looked long and hard at Grace as he added, “Not a word to him before I give him the news, or I’ll change my mind and appoint someone else out of sheer spite. Understand?”