A Fatal Slip

by Melissa Glazer

“No, Jenna brought the information to my attention, and she’s looking into it herself. If you didn’t find out about the will, what did you discover?”

  “Charlie had a drunk-driving arrest in his past,” Sandy said.

  “Is it significant?”

  “I didn’t think so at first, but I started digging into the time he was arrested, going through old newspapers we have here on microfiche, and guess what else happened around that time?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” I admitted.

  “Nate Walker’s wife was killed. It was a hit-and-run, and they never found the guy who did it.”

  I couldn’t believe it. “So you think he killed Nate’s wife, and Nate just realized it after all these years? Don’t you think he’d have known about it long before now?”

  “Nate crawled into a bottle after his wife died. I doubt he knew much of anything then. Carolyn, what if he stumbled across this information and decided that Charlie killed Winnie? Would he take it to Sheriff Hodges, or would he want revenge himself?”

  “I don’t know. It’s motive enough for murder, if it’s true. How do we find out, though? Do we walk up to Nate and ask him if he killed the man? I doubt he’d confess to us.”

  “Let me keep digging,” Sandy said. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything else.”

  “Thanks,” I said as the front door chimed. I half expected to see Martha come in with a report of her own, but it was actually a man with his thirteen- or fourteen-year-old daughter. From the expression on her face, she wasn’t all that thrilled about being in my shop.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a customer.”

  “I’ll touch base later,” Sandy said.

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  “We’d like to paint some pottery,” the man said firmly.

  The teenage girl sneered at her father. “Correction. He’d like to paint some pottery,” she said. “I want to go back to bed.”

  “Sarah, we talked about this. It’s after ten o’clock. We don’t have that much time left together before you have to go back to your mother’s.”

  “Whatever. I just want this woman to know that I’m here against my will.”

  My, wasn’t she a princess? Putting on my best smile, I asked, “Why don’t you give it a try? You might surprise yourself and have fun.”

  “I doubt that,” she said.

  “Would you like me to pick out a piece for you to paint, or would you like to find something yourself?”

  She rolled her eyes at me, and her father either missed it or, more likely, chose to ignore it. If he could take it, so could I. As a joke, I picked up a bisque clown’s face, something I’d made a mistake ordering and wanted to get rid of. It turned out that clowns weren’t as universally beloved as I’d once thought, and I still had two faces lingering on my shelves like unwanted guests who refused to leave. “Would you like to do this one?”

  “Why not?” she said, barely looking at the face.

  I turned to her father and said, “I’ve got one more, if you’d like to do it together.”

  It was mean, but I really did want to get rid of those clowns, and he seemed past caring himself. “That’s fine.”

  I set them up at a station, then explained the process. “You apply the paint, I fire the pieces, then you can pick them up in a few days.”

  The father frowned. “She leaves tomorrow afternoon.”

  “It’s a real shame, isn’t it?” Sarah said.

  “I’ll do a firing tonight, so they’ll be ready by lunch tomorrow.” One of my kilns was nearly full, so I wasn’t pushing it by making the promise.

  “Perfect,” the man said.

  “Stellar,” the girl chimed in, sarcasm thick in her voice.

  I got out a wide range of colors for them, then busied myself dusting the shelves as they worked. The father chose white, red, yellow, and blue for his clown, while the daughter covered hers from fright wig to chin with black. It was going to be hideous when it was fired, but that was her problem, not mine. She did a few embellishments with other colors from the palettes, but I couldn’t get a close enough look to see what she’d done—quite frankly, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to anyway. The father put down his brush and said, “That was fun. Sarah, would you like to do something else while we’re here?”

  “The only thing I want to do is leave.”

  “Wait for me outside,” he snapped, apparently having had enough of her attitude.

  She sullenly walked out, and he reached for his wallet as he said, “I want to apologize for my daughter. She hasn’t taken the divorce well.”

  “The teenage years are the toughest,” I said. “She’ll grow out of it. Just give her some time.”

  “I’m not sure I have that much time,” he said as he overpaid me for the clowns.

  “That’s too much,” I protested, but he wouldn’t take his change.

  “I figure you earned the rest as a tip. I’ll be by tomorrow to pick them up. If I can get her out of bed in time for her flight back to Virginia, that is. Knowing her, she’ll be ready at dawn—she’s in a hurry to get back to her mother.”

  “Be patient,” I said. “That’s what she needs from you right now.”

  “You sound like you’ve had experience with teenagers,” he said with a sigh.

  “I went through it twice with my boys. They do grow out of it.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I hope you’re right. It’s what I’m living for,” he said.

  After they were gone, I added the clowns to one of the nearly full kilns and turned it on. Whether they’d ever be back to pick them up was another thing altogether, but I was going to keep my end of the bargain and have them waiting for them. Besides, I was curious to see what the girl had done to her clown face. The kiln would bring it out. That was the thing about firing: the heat intensified whatever it touched, bringing hidden elements to the surface. Sometimes I wished there was a way to do the same to people.

  I had a few more customers come in over the course of the morning, and when there was a lull, I decided I could afford to eat my brown-bag lunch outside. There was a bench in view of the shop, just on the other side of the road and next to Whispering Brook where I could get some needed fresh air and perhaps a new perspective on things.

  It wasn’t quite a picnic—I needed someone else with me to qualify—but it was still wondrous being outdoors. After I finished my sandwich, I tarried on the bench, letting the sun soak in.

  The next thing I knew, someone was calling my name. Blast it all, I’d somehow fallen asleep.

  Trying not to rub my eyes, I looked up to see David standing over me. “What are you doing here?” I asked as I stood.

  “Not taking a nap,” he answered with a grin.

  “I wasn’t sleeping,” I said. “I was just enjoying the sunshine. I’m amazed your mother let you out without an escort.”

  “Or a nurse, either,” he answered. “I managed to get her to agree to let me work a few hours, but I can’t stay past three. That’s when her class is over, and she insists on picking me up.”

  “You can’t exactly drive at the moment, can you? Is there any hope for your car?” David drove an old Mazda that would qualify as a classic if it had been in decent shape.

  “No, it’s totaled. That’s all right; it only cost me five hundred dollars when I bought it two years ago, so I think I got my money’s worth. I’ll find something else.”

  “No doubt,” I said. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, though.”

  “I can’t very well ride my bicycle around town.”

  “I’m not talking about that. I mean you coming in today. You should be resting at home.”

  He took my arm and steered me into the shop. “Now don’t you start. It took me forever to convince Mom, and it’s too exhausting to go through it again with you. I promise I’ll take it easy. You can prop me up behind the cash register if you want.”

  “It’s a deal, but if you get tired, I want you to s
wear you’ll lie down on the couch in back, or I’ll drive you home myself. Is it a deal?”

  “I guess so,” he said.

  “I mean it, David.”

  After a few seconds, he nodded. “All right, just don’t pamper me. I get enough of that at home.”

  Butch, Jenna, and Sandy had given me some solid leads I wanted to follow up on, but there was no way I was going to leave David at the shop by himself. If nothing else, Hannah would skin me alive. I knew I was her best friend in the world, but if she ever thought I’d put her darling son in any kind of peril, she’d come after me like a mother lion. I wouldn’t have blamed her, either. I’d do the same if it concerned my two sons, no matter how old they were. Once a mother, always a mother.

  We had a quiet afternoon, and I would have been fine handling things by myself, but I enjoyed having David around, and I was sure he preferred being at Fire at Will to staying at home on the couch or in bed.

  Promptly at three, Hannah came in. “Are you all right?” she asked David.

  “It was touch and go there for a few minutes, but Carolyn wouldn’t let me go home, so I managed to grit my teeth and bear it.”

  Before Hannah could even look at me, I said, “You’re not funny, David.”

  “Come on, I’m a little amusing. Back me up here, Mom.”

  “I wish I could, but I agree with Carolyn. If you’re finished with your little jibes, it’s time to go home.”

  David got up, albeit a little gingerly, and started for the door. “You don’t have to pay me for today. I didn’t really do anything.”

  “Nonsense,” I said as I patted his shoulder. “If I used that as my yardstick, most days you’d end up owing me money. It was good to have you here today, David.”

  “I think so, too. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. That is, if my warden approves my work schedule.”

  “We’ll see what kind of night you have,” Hannah said. After they left, I started dusting the pieces, a job that never seemed to be finished.

  Hannah popped back in, and I said, “I thought you were gone.”

  “I wanted to get David in the car first.” She hugged me, then stepped away. “Thanks, Carolyn.”

  “For what?”

  “Giving David a place to be today, and a sense of purpose. I know I haven’t always supported his decision to work for you, but I’m glad he’s at Fire at Will.”

  “So am I, and not just because he’s your son. David’s more than a creative talent. He’s a good guy. I like having him around.”

  “Well, that’s good, because he loves being here. I’ll call you later.”

  “Bye,” I said as she left.

  The rest of the afternoon dragged on, but it was finally time to lock up for the night. Not that I was going home. Bill was in one of his workaholic moods, and he’d already warned me he’d be busy all evening. That was how he coped with stress, by burying himself in his work. And being in Sheriff Hodges’s spotlight was stressful to say the least. I knew that well enough from past experience.

  That’s why I was going to do my best to clear Bill’s name before it was ruined forever in Maple Ridge.

  Chapter 7

  First on my list was my old flame. It had been a while since I’d last chatted with Jackson Mallory, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know where to find him. Shelly had told me that since his third divorce, Jackson took three meals a day at her café. He was one of the few folks she let run a tab there, mostly because he gave her seven hundred dollars on the first of every month. If he ran short, he made up the difference with the next month’s retainer, and if he had a little extra, that was applied to his account as well.

  Shelly practically met me at the door when I walked into the café. “You just missed him.”

  “How did you know I was coming by looking for him?” I asked, honestly confused by her comment.

  “You’re here trying to find your husband, right?”

  “No,” I said as I scanned the roomful of diners. “I’m looking for Jackson Mallory. There he is.”

  Sally touched my arm lightly. “You’re not planning on stoking any old flames, are you?”

  “Don’t be insane,” I said.

  “You know the voices in my head don’t like it when you say that,” she said with a grin.

  “In that case, tell them all I’m sorry. I’m not here on a personal errand.”

  “Well, unless Jackson’s taken up pottery, I doubt it’s related to business.”

  I wouldn’t have answered anyone else, but Shelly was my second best friend in Maple Ridge. “I’m looking into Charlie Cobb’s murder,” I said softly.

  “Now why am I not surprised?” Shelly asked. She glanced over at Jackson. “I hope he didn’t do it.”

  “You’re not sweet on him yourself, are you?” I couldn’t picture the two of them together, but stranger matches had been known to happen.

  “Please tell me you’re kidding,” she said. “If he goes to jail, I’ll miss his business, not his face.”

  “I’ll try my best not to inconvenience you.”

  Shelly asked, “Would you like something to eat? I can bring it to the table.”

  “No, let’s wait. I’m not sure I want to have a meal with him, you know?”

  “You didn’t feel that way in high school,” Shelly said with a grin.

  “Fortunately I grew up. You should try it sometime.”

  “Now what fun would that be? I’ll bring you some tea, anyway.”

  “I’m fine, honestly.”

  “I don’t care if you take a sip of it or just let it sit there so you can sneer at it,” she said. “I want a chance to eavesdrop.”

  “Fine.”

  I approached Jackson, but it took a pair of polite coughs to get him to look up. He was scowling at first, but a smile broke free when he realized it was me. “Carolyn Emerson, what are you doing here?”

  “I thought I’d pop in and see Shelly,” I lied.

  He looked behind me. “Where’s that husband of yours? Wasn’t he just here? He doesn’t care for me, does he?”

  “Bill? He’s never said anything to me about it,” I said compounding the lie. Trying to smile as I spoke, I asked, “Care for some company?”

  He waved a finger in the air. “People will talk,” he said. “Oh, well. It’ll give them all something to do.” I slid into the bench seat opposite him. “How have you been?” I asked. “How’s business?”

  “We’re doing all right for ourselves. How’s your pottery shop?”

  “Oh, we’re much more than that. We paint ceramics, throw clay on our wheels, and hand-build pieces, too. I bought the building. Did you hear?”

  “I might have caught a whisper of it. If you and the other shop owners hadn’t exercised your option, I was going to bulldoze your shops down and put in town houses.”

  It was all I could do not to slap him silly for even thinking about it. Putting on a brave face, I said, “I didn’t mean to thwart your plans, but I’m happy with the outcome. We were just starting to remodel when Charlie Cobb shut us down.”

  “Hmm,” Jackson said.

  He could do better than that. I said, “You had your share of problems with him, too, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know if you’d call them problems. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but I never had any difficulties with the man himself.”

  You’re a big fat liar, I wanted to say but somehow managed to hold my tongue. I had a feeling that would be a conversation killer, and I wasn’t finished with Jackson Mallory, not by a long shot. “Funny, that’s not what folks are saying around town.”

  That got his attention. “What did you hear?”

  “That Charlie held his palm out a lot on his inspection trips, and it wasn’t so he could shake hands. I understand the way the construction world works,” I said, trying to put Jackson at ease. “Sometimes you have to lubricate the wheels of progress with cash.”

  “It’s been done before, I suppose,” he said, �
��but I never got involved in it.”

  “Come on, Jackson, you can tell me. I think it’s clever, knowing who to grease, and with how much.”

  He’d loved having his ego stoked in high school, and the years hadn’t changed him one bit. “It’s not as easy as some folks might think.”

  “So what would you do if someone double-crossed you? It would make you pretty mad, wouldn’t it?”

  “Carolyn, is there an accusation hiding in there somewhere?”

  I tried to look as innocent as I could, but I’m afraid that particular ship had sailed long ago. “I’m just saying, it would make me mad.”

  “It’s a cost of doing business sometimes,” he said. “There’s nothing personal about it. If you take things to heart, you’re in the wrong profession.”

  I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “So you weren’t mad when Charlie stiffed you and kept your money?”

  There wasn’t a crack in his façade as he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, don’t you?” I decided to try another tack. “By the way, where were you when Charlie was murdered?”

  He laughed, but there was no warmth in it. “You’re honestly asking me for an alibi? You’re kidding, right? I thought your husband was the sheriff’s number one suspect.”

  “He might be right now, but I’ve got a feeling you’re going to pass him on the list, once Hodges finds out what happened between you and Charlie.”

  Shelly took that moment to approach us with my glass of tea. “Put that in a cup to go, would you? Carolyn’s not staying,” he said.

  “Carolyn is perfectly capable of making up her own mind,” I said. “This is fine.”

  “Then drink it at another table, or better yet, the counter. We’re finished here, Carolyn.”

  I laughed. “Is that what you think? How cute. I’ll see you later, Jackson.”

  Shelly followed me back up front. As she put my tea down, she said, “I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve got guts, my friend.”

  “Sometimes you have to make a few folks mad to stir things up.”

  “So, did he do it?”

  “I don’t know yet. I have a lot more agitating to do before I’m ready to say. Is there any chance I could get a club sandwich? To go?”