The Crêpes of Wrath: A Pancake House Mystery

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The Crêpes of Wrath: A Pancake House Mystery Page 18

by Sarah Fox


  Yes, I decided, Ida Winkler was likely the one who’d provided the false tip. But whether she’d done so merely out of spite or to deflect suspicion away from herself, I didn’t know.

  I spent the next hour dealing with business tasks, trying to keep my mind focused on the pancake house. When Deputy Devereaux stopped by, he told me he would check the signs for fingerprints but warned me that chances were slim that they’d manage to track down the culprit through that method alone. By the time he’d given me that less-than-encouraging news and had departed with the signs, I didn’t feel like working any longer.

  Wandering through the dimly lit pancake house with its beautiful exposed beams and stone fireplace, I realized just how attached I’d become to the place over the past weeks. Whether or not I decided to stay in Wildwood Cove, I wanted the restaurant to not only survive but thrive. So whatever the reason behind the signs I’d found that morning, I was determined to make sure that The Flip Side would weather any storm arising from the fallout.

  Chapter 20

  When I returned to Jimmy’s house later that morning, I was relieved to find no visitors waiting to accost me. As I greeted Flapjack with a cuddle, my thoughts returned to Jimmy and Goldie’s relationship. I still didn’t understand it and wondered if someone could fill me in on their story. I didn’t think my mom knew anything about it, so I’d have to try someone local.

  I spotted the basket of cinnamon rolls sitting on the kitchen counter. Patricia Murray might be a good source of information. She lived only three properties away and had known Jimmy for several years. Maybe I’d drop in on her and see if she had some time to chat. And while I was at it, maybe I’d have a chance to talk to Sienna about Logan and his father.

  Before heading over to Patricia’s bed-and-breakfast, I took a few minutes to indulge in one of the cinnamon rolls. It was so gooey and delicious that I was tempted to eat a second one right after the first but I managed to fight the temptation, leaving the other three for another time.

  After washing my sticky fingers, I transferred the remaining cinnamon rolls into a plastic container so I could return the basket and tea towel to Patricia. Then I set off for the yellow-and-white Victorian owned by the Murrays. I took the beach route, sending a tiny crab skittering as I crossed the sand. More gray clouds had rolled in and I shivered as the wind whipped my curls about my face. I zipped my jacket up to the collar, glad I’d thought to slip it on before leaving the house.

  Whitecaps danced along the surface of the ocean and the incoming tide rushed and swirled over the sandbars as if it were hungry and determined to swallow up the beach as quickly as possible. The salty air held a hint of extra dampness and I figured rain was likely on its way. I didn’t mind. As much as I liked sunshine and warmth, I also enjoyed rainy weather. Maybe a good rain shower would wash away the last remnants of Jimmy’s blood on the porch steps. I wouldn’t complain about that. The blood was a constant reminder of the horrible way Jimmy’s life had ended and if Mother Nature didn’t take care of the stain soon, I’d have to tackle it with a scrub brush. That wasn’t a task I looked forward to doing.

  When I reached the Murray property, I struck off across the deserted yard and jogged up the steps to the back porch. I tapped on the French doors, spotting Patricia in the brightly lit kitchen.

  She smiled when she saw me and came over to open the door. “Hi, Marley. Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” I stepped over the threshold and ran a hand through my hair in an attempt to settle down the wildest of my curls.

  “It’s getting windy out there, isn’t it?” Patricia said as she shut the door behind me. “I think there’s rain on the way.”

  “Feels like it,” I agreed. I held out the basket and tea towel. “I came to return these and to thank you for the delicious cinnamon rolls.”

  She accepted the basket and towel. “You’re welcome. I figured you could do with a bit of comfort food.”

  “You weren’t wrong.”

  Patricia set the basket and towel on the kitchen counter. “I just put the kettle on. Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “If this isn’t an inconvenient time, that would be great.”

  “It’s not inconvenient at all.” She took two mugs down from a cupboard. “And I’m glad for the company. What type of tea do you prefer?”

  “Anything’s good for me.”

  She poured hot water into a stout red teapot. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  On my way to the table, I noticed several pieces of driftwood art displayed in the family room that opened onto the kitchen and dining area. One piece in particular, displayed on the mantel of the fireplace, caught my eye. Someone had carved a beautiful eagle out of the piece of wood.

  “Local artist?” I asked as I admired the carving.

  “You could say that,” Patricia replied with a smile. “They’re all mine.”

  “Really?” I said, impressed. “They’re great.”

  “Thanks. It’s a fun hobby.”

  As she fetched a carton of cream from the fridge, I took one last look at the eagle and returned to the dining area. I pulled a chair out from under the dining table and settled into it, facing the French doors. From my vantage point, I could see the San Juan Islands as well as a small boat heading inland.

  When Patricia came over to the table carrying a tray, I shifted my gaze away from the view. She set the tray down and picked up the teapot, pouring a stream of hot liquid into the first of the two mugs.

  “It’s Earl Grey,” she said as she handed me the full mug.

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  She poured herself a cup as well and added cream. “How are things going?”

  “All right, I guess,” I said. “It’s been an overwhelming few days, but I’m managing.”

  “I saw the obituary in this morning’s paper. Jimmy lived a full life.”

  “That’s for sure,” I said with a small smile, remembering the tales he’d told me of his many adventures. In his younger years, he’d traveled the world and had often flirted with trouble and danger, somehow always surviving to experience yet another exploit.

  My smile faded away. Trouble had eventually caught up with him. Had he seen it coming?

  I pushed those thoughts away and told Patricia about my visit from Goldie Krantz. She frowned as I related Goldie’s attempt to get her hands on the vase and figurines that had belonged to Grace.

  “I know Goldie Krantz,” Patricia said after I told her the story. “We’re both members of the Friends of the Library group.”

  I held back a cringe, hoping Patricia wasn’t good friends with Goldie. Her next words pushed that worry aside.

  “I can’t say I’m a great fan of hers,” she went on. “I get the feeling she joined the group because she wants to appear like she’s helpful and involved in the community, rather than because she actually wants to be helpful and involved.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me.” I took a sip of my hot tea. “What does surprise me is the fact that Jimmy was involved with her in any way. Do you know anything about their relationship?”

  Patricia swallowed a sip of her own tea and set her mug on the table. “It didn’t last long. I can tell you that much for certain. And Goldie was the one who went after Jimmy, rather than the other way around.”

  That was a scenario I could picture.

  “Goldie has lived in Wildwood Cove for a few years now,” Patricia continued, “and she lived in Edmonds before that. One of my friends here in town is from Edmonds and knew Goldie back then. From what I gather, Goldie has a system that she likes to use over and over again. She befriends a single man of somewhat advanced years who’s financially better off than she is and puts on a great act of wanting to look after him. I think her ultimate goal is likely to get them to marry her, but she certainly hasn’t been successful since she moved here. As for Jimmy, I don’t think he minded the attention at first, but he seemed to grow tired of her quite quickly.”
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br />   Relief released a little knot of tension in my chest. Jimmy had seen through Goldie, hadn’t fallen for her act for long. I almost smiled at that knowledge. I didn’t like to think of Goldie bamboozling him and now I didn’t have to.

  “I’m not too sure what to think of Goldie’s son,” Patricia said.

  “Jonah?” I shuddered. “He makes my skin crawl.”

  “He had the same effect on me. Some of the ladies from the Friends of the Library group were here for tea last week. Jonah dropped Goldie off and picked her up later. I couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about him.”

  “I guess it’s not surprising that he’s odd,” I said, “considering who his mother is.”

  “True,” Patricia agreed.

  As I took another drink of my tea, Sienna came into the room. She seemed subdued, without the cheerful energy she’d had on the other two occasions I’d seen her. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, and she wore no makeup.

  “Hi, Sienna,” I greeted.

  She tried to smile but was only partly successful. “Hi.”

  “Sweetie, can I get you anything?” Patricia asked her daughter.

  “No, thanks.” Sienna wandered over to the fridge. “I’m just going to have some iced tea.”

  Worried creases formed at the corners of Patricia’s eyes as she watched her daughter, but she soon turned her attention back to me. “I heard Jimmy left you the pancake house. Have you had a chance to think about what you’re going to do with it?”

  “I know I don’t want to sell it,” I said. “I might hire a manager to take care of it. As long as the business hasn’t been damaged beyond repair.”

  “Because of the murder?” Patricia asked, confused.

  “No. Someone posted notices on the building and the website saying The Flip Side had been shut down because of health and safety violations. That’s a complete lie, of course.”

  “Who would do such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “The website was hacked, but the sheriff’s office wasn’t able to trace whoever it was. Whether it was meant as a bad joke or something more sinister, we don’t know, but I’m concerned about the effect it could have on the business.”

  A choked sob came from the kitchen. Patricia and I both swiveled our heads toward Sienna. She abandoned the jug of iced tea on the counter and fled from the kitchen, tears running down her cheeks. A few seconds later, a door thudded shut somewhere in the house.

  “Oh dear.” Patricia’s shoulders sagged and the worried creases returned to the corners of her eyes.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I asked, startled. I thought back over my recent words but couldn’t identify anything that would have upset Sienna.

  Patricia shook her head. “She’s been crying off and on since last night. She and Logan broke up.”

  “Really?” That must have happened after the two teenagers visited me.

  “First boyfriend, first breakup.” Patricia sighed sadly. “She won’t tell me what happened, only that she doesn’t want anything to do with Logan anymore. I wish I could take away her pain, but of course I can’t. It’s life, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” I agreed. “She’ll be okay with time.”

  Patricia managed a small smile. “Yes, she will.”

  I took one last sip of my tea and pushed my chair back. “I should go, but thanks for the tea. It was nice to sit and chat for a while.”

  “It was.” Patricia stood up along with me. “Even if you don’t end up living in Wildwood Cove, you should stop by whenever you’re over this way.”

  “I will,” I assured her.

  “Oh dear. I’m sorry,” she said as I stood up. “You’ve got glitter on your jeans.”

  I glanced down and saw that tiny sparkles had transferred from the tablecloth to my clothes. “I heard about the spill.” I brushed at my jeans without much effect.

  “That was a heck of a day. Glitter spilled everywhere and we had a problem with the dishwasher, so we ended up with water all over the floor as well. The dishwasher got fixed, but the glitter’s been impossible to get rid of completely.”

  “Glitter’s like that.” I gave up on trying to rid my jeans of the tiny flecks. “Don’t worry about my clothes, though. It’s not much and it’ll come off eventually.”

  “I hope so. Oh.” Patricia grabbed a Driftwood B&B business card from a holder on the edge of the kitchen counter and wrote something on the back of it with a pen. “I’ll give you my number in case you need to get in touch for any reason. I can always keep an eye on Jimmy’s house for you if you go back to Seattle while the estate is being settled.” She handed me the card. “The house number’s on the front and my cell number’s on the back.”

  I thanked her and pocketed the card as she walked me to the back door. We parted on the porch and I headed back in the direction of Jimmy’s house.

  As I made my way along the beach, a wave of sympathy washed over me. Poor Sienna. I barely knew the girl, but I liked her and could relate to what she was going through from my own past experience. Some of my sympathy was for Patricia as well. It couldn’t be easy to watch your child suffer through heartbreak.

  I balanced my way along a log, my mood as somber as the gray sky. At least I knew for sure now that Jimmy hadn’t fallen for Goldie. It gave me some small comfort to know he hadn’t been charmed by someone so fake and appalling. Still, I couldn’t seem to dig up any cheerfulness. I considered calling my mom or Cassidy, but in the end I decided against it. Keeping busy would be better for me.

  I decided to press on with sorting through Jimmy’s belongings. I still needed to go through the rest of his clothes. As for the furniture, it would be hard to make any final decisions until I knew for sure that I’d be renting the house out rather than living in it. Somehow I still couldn’t bring myself to decide that issue for certain. I kept telling myself that I still had time to think things over, but I knew that time would soon run out. I was supposed to be back at work in one week and the next few days would probably fly by.

  With my thoughts on the tasks ahead of me, I climbed up to the back porch and unlocked the door. As I stepped inside the house, a rustling sound reached my ears.

  I froze, my mouth going dry. That didn’t sound like Flapjack.

  The rustling sound came again, originating from down the hall.

  Jimmy’s office?

  My heart thudded in my chest and every one of my muscles tensed.

  Someone was in the house.

  “Who’s there?” As soon as I called out the words, I silently cursed myself.

  Don’t draw attention to yourself! Run! Get away!

  I spun on my heel and fled back out the open door. Once outside, I kept going, clattering down the porch stairs. As I pulled my cellphone from my pocket, I crept around the side of the house. I didn’t want to come face-to-face with the intruder, especially if he or she was the same person who had killed Jimmy, but I didn’t want to pass up a potential opportunity to identify the person inside. Doing so might solve the murder case, might help to put a killer behind bars.

  I paused by one of the side windows of the main-floor tower room and took a cautious peek through the glass. A second or two passed before I could make out what I saw in the shadowy room.

  Someone was climbing out the front window.

  Rushing to the corner of the house, I stopped again and peered around to get a look at the window. My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

  “Jonah Krantz?” I stepped around the corner.

  With his lanky frame halfway out the window, Jonah froze, staring at me like a deer caught in a car’s headlights.

  Maybe I should have been scared, but fury crowded out any fear. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Jonah blinked and jerked himself back into motion. He climbed the rest of the way out of the window—broken, I now realized—and dropped to the ground.

  “I…” His eyes shifted from me to the broken window and back again. “My mom lost an
earring. I came to look for it.”

  “In Jimmy’s office?” I stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Your mom wasn’t in that room.”

  His neck and face flushed. “I was looking in the hall and living room. You weren’t home, so…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  “So you decided to break in?” I said, my anger darkening my words. “To look for an earring?”

  His face flushed darker.

  Keeping an eye on him, I woke up my cellphone.

  “Who are you calling?” he asked, desperation visible in his eyes.

  “Who do you think?”

  “Don’t call the police. Please!”

  My thumb hovered over the emergency button. “Why not? You broke into Jimmy’s house.”

  “Only to look for my mom’s earring. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “You expect me to believe that? An earring? Come on.”

  “It has a lot of sentimental value. She was really upset when she realized it was missing. I just wanted to get it back to her as soon as possible.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I hit the button.

  The desperation in his eyes intensified. For a split second I thought he was about to lunge at me, but instead he shot off along the driveway, running like he had a pack of helhounds on his heels. I stared after him, stunned by the whole experience, until the emergency dispatcher spoke in my ear.

  I explained the situation and the dispatcher assured me that a sheriff’s department car was on its way. While awaiting its arrival, I tiptoed around some broken glass and looked through the window, giving Jimmy’s office a quick scan. Several papers stuck out of the top drawer of Jimmy’s metal filing cabinet, as if someone had tried to put back the contents in a hurry. One of the desk drawers also sat partially open. I knew I hadn’t left the room like that.

 

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