"Elsie, there's still time for you to put out a retraction or clarification flyer. That way everyone will expect Mr. Darcy to be cardboard."
"Do you think?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to lose so much business over this, Pink. I should have listened to you in the first place. Hey, I'm skipping my run tonight. I was going to head over to Franki's for her chili and corn bread. I need comfort food, not icy wind and sore calves. Would you join me? I don't feel like eating alone tonight."
"Uh, sure. I never turn down Franki's chili."
I finished draping myself in my winter gear, and Elsie and I headed down the sidewalk to Franki's. I hadn't planned to eat at the diner twice in one day, but it seemed Elsie really needed the company. Her husband, Hank, spent more than half the year traveling for business, so Elsie was left alone a lot. She never seemed to mind it and swore those months of independence were what made her marriage to Hank so strong. But tonight she was feeling down, and I knew she needed some supportive companionship.
"What is happening with the murder case?" Elsie asked as we walked through the diner parking lot. "I saw a flurry of activity in front of the police station earlier today. I guess the victim was well known?"
"Jasper was the face of Georgio's Perfume. You've no doubt seen many pictures of him in magazines and on billboards." My phone buzzed as I opened the door for Elsie.
"I'm sure I have." Elsie walked past and into the diner.
I glanced at my phone. It was a text from Ryder. "Sent you a rainbow picture. You never got a chance to see them." The picture was still downloading, so I stuck my phone back into my pocket.
Franki was already off for the evening, which was a shame. Franki Rumple, the owner of Franki's Diner, was always a good source of information. Her diner was a popular stop for both locals and visitors. It was just a cute, casual diner, but the quality of her food made her place extremely popular. Much like Elsie, Franki was a true dynamo with boundless energy and talent. And when she wasn't running her extremely successful restaurant, she was busy at home with her four teenagers.
Elsie and I found a table near the door and scooted into the seats. Franki's son, Taylor, walked over to take our order. I knew it was Taylor only because of his nametag. His twin brother, Tyler, was an exact duplicate. They were impossible to tell apart.
"Your mom mentioned that you boys had started working at the diner in the evenings," I said.
Taylor smiled proudly. "Figured it was time to start helping Mom out. Let me guess. Chili and corn bread?"
Elsie held up two fingers.
"Two bowls of chili coming up." He tucked away his order pad and left.
I watched him hurry to the kitchen to turn in the order. "I guess the boys are starting to mature. I'm glad. Franki's got a lot on her plate as a single mom."
"True," Elsie agreed. "I wish I could find good, reliable help for the bakery."
I held back a smile. "Maybe you need to lower your standards a bit."
"Said the flower shop owner who landed the most marvelous shop assistant in the world." Elsie tucked a gray strand of hair back into the clips that held the rest of her toffee and gray hair in a neat, efficient bun.
"You're right. I should just seal my lips on this topic. I don't want to jinx myself."
Elsie slumped back against the vinyl seat. It was her third slump of the evening. It was usually Elsie giving the advice, but tonight, it seemed, she needed to be on the receiving end for a change.
"Don't worry, Elsie. Everyone within a fifty mile radius is addicted to your baked goods. People might be slightly upset about the Mr. Darcy promise, but you won't lose business. Maybe you could give every Valentine's Day visitor one of those delicious caramel kisses as a gift. They'll get lost in the brown sugar goodness and all will be forgiven."
"That's a good idea. I hope you're right. One thing is for sure, next time you try and warn me about one of my cockamamie plans, I'm going to listen."
The front door opened, and Lydia walked in with Alexander. She caught a glimpse of me as she stood at the take-out counter. She waved weakly. Alexander looked like a shell of his former self, drawn and pale with dark rings under his eyes. My mind shot back to the morning when Hazel had shown up at my house unexpectedly. She had offered her theory that Lydia might have been behind the murder. According to Hazel, she had motive. Lydia had recently discovered that Jasper and Autumn made three times the amount of money she did for a photo shoot. That would be a slap in the face for any faithful employee. But was it enough to drive her to murder? I didn't know Lydia well. We'd never really connected on a friendship level, but I always thought highly of her and her talent. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a quick chat, just to get a sense of how she was feeling. From where I sat, one thing was obvious. Alexander was far more distressed than Lydia.
"Elsie, if you'll excuse me a moment, a few of my old acquaintances are here. I just want to see how they're doing."
"Sure."
I slipped out of the seat and headed to the take-out counter. There was a brief, quiet hug session.
"How is everything?" I asked.
Alexander couldn't work up a response. The hug had caused tears to well up in his eyes. Lydia, on the other hand, had no problem speaking up.
"Of course the last thing we needed was to be swarmed with news crews this morning. We're all trying to come to grips with it, and we were having to duck around to avoid cameras and reporters."
"Yes, at least it seems they've gone for now," I noted and cast a weak smile toward Alexander. He was still speechless.
"I hope that detective gets to the bottom of this soon. It's terrible publicity for the company," Lydia continued. It was obvious her rather callous disregard for the tragedy itself was upsetting Alexander even more. I decided to put a quick end to the conversation.
"I'm sure everything will be sorted out soon. Have you spoken to Jacob?" I tossed in a quick attempt to find out just what was going on with the investigation.
Lydia shrugged. "If only they'd tell us something. Jacob hasn't spoken to any of us. He's with that arrogant old lawyer Redmond. We've heard nothing."
Their food came.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do, and tell everyone I'm thinking about them."
"Thanks, Lacey, we will."
Alexander nodded at me as they turned to leave. I pulled my phone out of my pocket on the way back to the table. The rainbow picture had arrived.
I sat down at the table. Elsie was buttering her corn bread. "Those were people you worked with?"
"Not directly, but yes. They worked for the same company." I rubbed my thumb over the picture to open it. "Sorry, Ryder sent me a picture, and I don't want to hurt his feelings by not commenting on it."
Ryder had been bragging that the camera on his new phone took great pictures. He was right. The arch of a rainbow hung like a crystal light prism over Pickford Beach. The colors sparkled in an otherwise gloomy, gray sky.
"Look how pretty this rainbow is." I turned the phone to Elsie. She pulled out her reading glasses and put them on. Even with glasses, she squinted at the picture. It seemed odd considering the rainbow was hard to miss, glasses or not. She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Now that's a fun coincidence. Or is it irony? I get those mixed up."
"I don't think a rainbow is a coincidence or irony. I think it's physics. Not sure what you mean."
Elsie pointed at the screen. "It's just that there are two men holding hands on the beach beneath the rainbow. Like the symbol."
I spun the phone back around. I'd been so focused on the rainbow, I hadn't noticed the people on the beach, also focused on the rainbow. And Elsie was right. There were two men holding hands gazing at the colors in the sky. And they were two men I knew. Suddenly it was clear why Jacob said he had proof he wasn't jealous of Jasper and Autumn. The picture would also explain why Alexander looked as if he'd just lost someone very dear to him. He had.
I stretched up to look out the win
dow. The diner was across the street from the police station. Detective Briggs' car was still parked out front. "Elsie, if you don't mind, I'm going to eat fast. I need to go see Detective Briggs before he leaves for the night. You and your little ironic coincidence just put a new twist in the murder case."
Chapter 25
I reached the station, but the door was locked. I peered through the tinted glass and between the broken slats on the blinds. Hilda and Officer Chinmoor's desks were dark. The only light was coming from Briggs' office.
I pulled out my phone. I sent a text to Ryder letting him know the picture was beautiful and asking him what time he took it. He wrote back that it was Wednesday morning at seven.
I sent the picture to Briggs with no text. I decided to see if he noticed anything significant in the picture. I certainly hadn't until Elsie pointed it out.
I paced in front of the station to keep warm and waited for a return text. It took longer than I'd hoped, and with each passing minute, I felt more and more deflated. Briggs really didn't want anything to do with me anymore. As that depressing thought took hold, a text came through.
"Very nice rainbow."
I texted back. "It is. Do you see anything of note in the picture?"
A significant pause followed. "Yes. I see. Interesting. When was this taken?"
"Wednesday at seven in the morning. Ryder shot it on Pickford Beach."
"Did you know that Jasper was seeing Alexander?"
"Not until—" I stopped texting. My fingers were too cold, and I kept hitting the wrong keys. I decided to call him.
"Hello."
"Hello. My fingers were too cold to keep texting."
"Why? Where are you?"
"Outside the police station."
Seconds later another light went on and Briggs unlocked the front door. I stepped inside and turned to watch him lock up the door. He spun around and our gazes locked for a long moment. We said nothing for that stretch of time, but it felt like words were spoken.
"I was hoping you'd still be talking to me. I'm sorry I had to take you off the case."
I held up my hand. "I understand. Of course, there's no law that says I can't do a little mystery solving on my own. And I think this picture is a big clue."
"How is that?"
"Motive. Jacob wasn't jealous of Jasper and Autumn. Surely that's obvious now."
"If he knew about Jasper's relationship with Alexander, why didn't he say something?"
I was stopped by his question as I searched for a reasonable answer. "I'm not sure, but when I spoke to Jacob he said he had information that would shut down the jealousy motive. He must have known."
"Did anyone else know? I'm going to assume you were unaware of it."
"I had no idea. And I have to say, Hazel, the woman who I thought knew everything about everyone didn't seem to know either. Otherwise, she would have mentioned it. It's all kind of strange."
He gave me that sort of empathetic expression, almost a 'good try, kiddo' look. I would have been irritated if he hadn't looked so handsome doing it. "Lacey"—there came the sympathetic tone to go with the empathetic look on his face—"You know this doesn't mean much. There are always other possible motives."
"Yes, which brings me to someone else who was on site and who was close to Jasper. According to my friend, Hazel, who knows everything that goes on at the company." I lifted the phone to point out the picture. "Except the relationship between Jasper and Alexander," I added quickly. "Hazel told me that Lydia found out that the models, Autumn and Jasper, made three times as much as her, and she was plenty angry about it. Who wouldn't be? She does the bulk of the work. They just stand around looking spectacular. Or stood, I guess. At least for one of them." My voice trailed off. Suddenly my attempt to throw a few more people of interest into the mix seemed foolish.
"Look, I know this whole thing isn't easy on you. It's one of the reasons I took you off the case. You have to be able to look at an investigation objectively and knowing everyone involved makes that impossible. I'll go talk to Alexander and Lydia again. It seems they both left off some important details about their relationships with Jasper. Lydia had nothing but gushing praise for him. At the time, I thought it sounded a little forced. Alexander mentioned that he'd take care of notifying Jasper's family and making funeral arrangements, which seemed above his duty as a friend. But the photo obviously adds another layer to his relationship with the deceased."
"And ask Alexander why he was so angry when he left Jasper's trailer."
"That already came up when I talked to Alexander. He said it was just a friend's quarrel. I guess it was more than that given this new revelation."
I decided to try one more strategy to get back into helping him with the case. "I understand the whole objectivity concept, but doesn't it sometimes help to be a little subjective or at least have someone on your side who everyone feels comfortable talking to? I was in the diner just now talking to both Lydia and Alexander, and I can tell you that Lydia was almost more upset about the reporters harassing them than losing a close colleague. Alexander looked just as one might expect after losing a loved one."
"So you want to be a double agent and talk to your friends with a kind face and then turn around and tell me what they've said and how they reacted?"
His question took the wind right out of my sails. "No, not when you phrase it like that. I guess it would be sort of traitorous of me. Just like sniffing out all kinds of evidence that pointed to Jacob." I sighed and pushed my phone back into my pocket. "This is such an awful position to be in. And to think I was enjoying myself as assistant sleuth to the Port Danby Police. Can you at least tell me where you're at with Jacob? Did his lawyer come?"
He pondered my request for a moment. "Jacob is at the hotel with his lawyer."
"Baxter Redmond is a brusque, fast talking man. But he might be a poor choice for this predicament. I think he is more of a corporate lawyer."
"Yes, I got that impression. Jacob answered all the questions. He is sticking to his alibi. He spent the morning sick in bed. He has no explanation for the cologne or clove cigarette odor on the pillow. And we couldn't find any significant traces on Autumn's clothing." He looked slightly uncomfortable about the last revelation.
"It's all right, Detective Briggs. I had the same idea myself. Jacob told me Autumn had been staying clear of his germs."
The slight grin on his face had a touch of pride. "You are certainly thinking more and more like a detective." Briggs looked weary as he combed his hair back with his fingers. "It's late. I need to finish some paperwork and you should get home." He walked me to the door.
"I could go with you when you interview Lydia and Alexander. You know, if you needed me." I looked at him with big, hopeful eyes.
Briggs shook his head and unlocked the door. "Good night, Miss Pinkerton."
I stepped out into the icy night air and turned back to him. "Good night, Detective Briggs."
Chapter 26
Nevermore met me at the front door. I temporarily considered that he was just excited to see me, but it seemed he was more excited to see what the pesky squirrel was doing in Dash's mulberry tree. The cat shot past me without so much as a whisker twitch or tail flick. He raced across the yard and up the trunk of the mulberry, disappearing quickly into its branches.
Kingston, however, did have a greeting for me. It was more of an angry screech than a hello, but it was still a step above the cat's greeting. I closed the front door and opened Kingston's cage. I decided to leave my winter gear on. Something told me it was going to take some clever cat owner tricks to get Nevermore down from the tree. Cat luring had not been on my list of activities for the night. I was tired and slightly grumpy from the day.
I had to admit it was nice talking to Detective Briggs, even if I couldn't get him to budge on my participation in the investigation. That part had been disappointing. But what he'd said also made perfect sense. (Something the man was irritatingly good at.) I was already devastate
d having to point out that the cologne and cloves on the pillow belonged to Jacob. I didn't need to add salt to that wound by implicating other people. Or worse, finding more evidence that pointed to Jacob. At the moment, it seemed the only thing Briggs really had on Jacob was the cologne and clove cigarette. It seemed like a flimsy case. I knew Briggs well enough to know that he thought so too. It seemed he was going to have to find something more significant to charge Jacob. Of course, that was just my assessment. Or at least my hopeful assessment.
I grabbed the hardboiled eggs I'd cooked for Kingston and crumbled them into the dish on his perch. I glanced out the front window to Nevermore's favorite place on the porch. It seemed he was still in the tree. I decided I didn't need a squirrel's untimely death on my conscience, so I walked back out armed with a bag of Never's favorite treats
The light was on in Dash's garage, and his truck was in the driveway. He was always building, cutting, hammering or sanding something out in his garage. The house he'd bought next door to me came with a pleasant price tag because it needed a major dose of TLC. And Dash was definitely giving it plenty. When he wasn't out working on boats in the marina, Dash was working on his house. And, apparently, flying the deep blue skies whenever he had access to a plane.
I trudged across the winter brown grass in Dash's front yard and stopped beneath the massive mulberry growing in the center of his lawn. The tree's gigantic roots caused the lawn to crest and curve, but I found a secure place to stand beneath the maze of branches. A few green buds were showing the signs of an early spring. Otherwise, the tree was devoid of all its lush foliage. The sky above was a dark slate gray, the color of Nevermore's fur, and the stars were only starting to turn on their lights. Fortunately, my cat had grown just fat and clumsy enough from his endless hours on the couch to make him easy to find. A cluster of thin branches high up in the dome of the tree shook frenetically. Something told me the squirrel had slipped down and away from his chubby predator long ago. Leaving my cat, disappointed and alone, high up in the mulberry.
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