Bowled Over

by Victoria Hamilton

  “Problem?”

  “Problem customer,” Becca said. Rebecca Leighton Burke’s business, RLB China Matching, provided china dishes in old and/or discontinued patterns to people all over the map, from Chilliwack to Chattanooga. “This woman claims the Old Imari platter I sent her was broken when it arrived. It could happen; shipping is never foolproof. But if she doesn’t send me a picture or the pieces, am I supposed to just blindly believe her? That platter is worth five hundred dollars.”

  “It’s insured, right?”

  “Of course, but that’s not the point. If Sabrina can’t solve this, I might have to go back to London for a few days. Will you be okay, if I do?”

  “I’ll be fine. How did it go with Craig Cooper?”

  “He wasn’t home. I gather he was at the police station. His sister, Chloe, was there, though.”

  “I’d forgotten about Chloe!”

  “She lives in Wolverhampton now, works at a hairstylist’s. She didn’t seem too cut up that Kathy was gone.”

  “Did she dislike her?”

  Becca shrugged, and Jaymie felt a moment of irritation. If she had been there, she would have wormed her way into the house and asked some questions about Kathy and Craig’s relationship. “Well, what did she say?” Jaymie asked.

  “Not much; she’s staying with Craig to help plan the funeral, I guess.”

  “Well, I just saw Kylie Hofstadter out at the Hofstadter farm, and she claims she’s organizing the funeral!”

  “I was just dropping off food, for crying out loud, not conducting an inquisition.” Becca already had her cell phone out and was scrolling down through her list of contacts. “I have to solve this platter problem,” she said, her tone gruff. She moved out onto the summer porch, where she sat in one of the wicker chairs and made some calls.

  So much for help with figuring out what had happened to Kathy! Jaymie had pictured talking to her older sister about what she’d heard from Valetta about Johnny Stanko and the bowl, and more about her troubling visit to the Hofstadter farm. Jaymie turned for comfort to the big box of cookbooks Becca had bought her the other day at the estate auction. She soon knew she was in trouble, because the stack of ones to discard was tiny, while the pile of ones she wanted to keep was so tall it toppled over on the trestle table.

  The one that she had mined for the potato salad recipe (the one she hadn’t ended up using!) was a gem; it was a thick, blue, cloth-bound book called The Lilly Wallace New American Cook Book, and it was far more entertaining than she would have thought, given the plain binding. Sea moss pudding. Brains à la king. Tomato orange aspic. Were these things really so prevalent in 1943, when the book was published? She’d have to talk to her Grandma Leighton about that!

  Out on the lawn, Hoppy started to bark, and Jaymie figured it was Dipsy Poodle again. She loved to taunt Hoppy by meandering close to the fence, then shying nervously away when he got too close. Hoppy never gave up trying to win the pretty little poodle’s attention, though. Jaymie kept perusing the cookbook and marked a page she wanted to show Rebecca about place-settings for china. A shadow fell across the page of her cookbook, and she looked up, annoyed. It was Detective Christian; she slapped the book closed.

  “Your sister said to just come in,” he said, gesturing toward the summer porch, where Becca’s voice still droned on.

  “Sure, of course.” She jumped up, unnerved by his sudden appearance when she was lost in recipe land. “Do you want coffee? Or tea?”

  “It’s July, and the middle of the day,” he commented. “Though it’s nice and cool in here.”

  “These old houses are well insulated. The deep summer porch is good for keeping the hot sun off the back wall, too. Folks used to sleep out on the summer porch on hot nights.” But he wasn’t there for a lesson in house construction from the 1800s. He had been in her kitchen before, and he’d commented that it looked like the kitchen of an eighty-year-old rather than a young woman. He clearly didn’t know that retro was fashionable. “How about some lemonade? Then you can ask me what you want.”

  His eyebrows rose as he sat down at the trestle table. “Why do you think I’m here with questions?”

  “Why else would you be here?” she asked. She got out two glasses and poured lemonade that she had made for their picnic the day before. She plunked one down in front of him, and some sloshed over the side. She got a paper towel and gave it to him.

  He mopped up the lemonade, then took a long drink, sighing with appreciation. “It’s good.”

  She sat down opposite him and waited. She always talked too much in his presence. Today, she would simply wait.

  “More cookbooks?” he asked about the toppled stack that splayed across the shiny wood surface. He eyed her cookbook shelf, which was already jammed full.

  She nodded. “Becca bought me a box of them at an estate sale.”

  “Why does anyone care about old cookbooks?”

  She thought about it, not reacting to his bluntness, but to the actual question. “It’s like stepping back in time, and a lot of us like to do that. Some folks join battle reenactment troops, some collect coins or stamps and some of us like to read cookbooks and try out old recipes. It takes me back to life in another era before fast food and packaged mixes. If you wanted a cake, you had to make it, not rely on Betty Crocker or Duncan Hines.”

  He nodded, holding her gaze.

  She waited, but he didn’t say anything, and finally, carefully keeping the irritation out of her voice, she said, “Detective, do you want to tell me why you’re here, or are we going to play the silent game?”

  He grinned, then quickly smothered the look. “Jaymie, can you think of any reason you would be mentioned when it comes to Kathy Cooper’s murder?”

  It was not what she expected, but then, she didn’t really know what to expect. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He paused and stared into her eyes for a moment. “Your name keeps coming up when I ask around about Kathy Cooper’s murder, and people who might have it in for her.”

  “I’ve already told you about our tiff, and the feud from high school.”

  He grimaced and swiped his hand through his tousled hair. “Fair enough. Is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many people knew about that?”

  She shrugged. “Pretty much the whole town. In case you haven’t noticed, gossip is a way of life here. I told you who else she fought with recently. That is it for my knowledge of Kathy Cooper.”

  “Okay. You asked me something last night, and I can tell you now: as far as the medical examiner is concerned, your bowl was the weapon used to kill Kathy Cooper.”

  It was like a body blow; Jaymie’s head swam, and her vision blurred. She put her head in her hands. “I figured as much,” she mumbled. “That means whoever did it planned ahead, right?”

  “You can understand, then, why I need to track the bowl.”

  “I’ve spoken to Valetta. She told me about giving the bowl to Johnny, and she also said she told you about it.”

  Becca came in from the summer porch that moment, with a look of concern on her face. “Why are you asking people if Jaymie had any reason to want to harm Kathy?” she asked the detective, her voice trembling with suppressed anger and fear.

  “What are you talking about, Becca?” Jaymie asked, twisting to look at her older sister.

  “I just got off the phone with DeeDee Stubbs,” she said. “This guy has been all over town asking people if that old crap between you and Kathy was enough that you’d want to kill her. He’s been asking about the quarrel you had at the picnic. I don’t think you need to say another word to him, Jaymie.”

  Jaymie gazed steadily at the detective, a sick feeling wringing her stomach. Hoppy trotted into the kitchen and stood staring at him, too. He barked once, a warning, and growled, sensing the tension.

  “I’m just doing my job,” he said. “It is my task to investigate every aspect of this case, and, I’m sorry, Jaymie, but by your own
admission, you and the victim did not get along.”

  “A teenage quarrel is no reason to kill someone,” Becca said. “Otherwise this town would be decimated by half.”

  “Okay, but that ‘teenage quarrel,’” he said, sketching quote marks in the air, “had flared up recently by all accounts. Two run-ins in the span of two days.”

  “You’re done talking to him,” Becca said, putting her hand on her sister’s shoulder.

  Jaymie shrugged it off. “No, I want this solved. He knows I didn’t kill Kathy Cooper,” she said, still holding the detective’s gaze. She hoped what she was saying was true.

  “Actually, I’m about done.” He stood and straightened his suit jacket. “Thank you for the lemonade, ladies. I appreciate your time, Jaymie. If you think of anything else, we can talk when you come in to sign your statement.”

  “Wait! Have you asked Johnny Stanko what he did with the bowl?”

  “Mr. Stanko is avoiding us,” Christian said, with a rueful grimace. “In a town this small, you wouldn’t think that was possible, but he’s not home and hasn’t been since the murder, as far as we can tell. He could be holed up inside his house, but he’s not answering the door, and we don’t have enough for a warrant. Yet.” He held her gaze and said, with emphasis, “It would be best for him if he did talk to us, if he wants to clear his name.”

  Once he was gone, Becca sat down at the table, and Jaymie sat, too. “Do you think Johnny did it?” Becca asked, her voice trembling. “Why else would he be avoiding the cops?”

  Jaymie shrugged. She was still reeling. Her bowl was the murder weapon. She was a suspect. “Valetta doesn’t seem to think the guy is guilty, even though he’s the last one who apparently had the bowl. She doesn’t know what he did with it, though.”

  “Maybe he took off. If he did do it, wouldn’t he have run? He always was impulsive, if I remember right. And he’s been in trouble before.”

  “Do you remember his sister? Valetta told me she was older than him.”

  “Vaguely, but she was younger than we were, kind of in between Johnny and us in age. She was trouble, too…hung around a tough crowd, then took off. I moved away from Queensville myself, so I don’t know what became of her.”

  “She came back. She owned a house here; that’s why Johnny came back. He inherited the house when she died. Valetta told me all that.” She thought back to the day before, the confrontation between Kathy and Johnny. Had there been enough anger there, enough vitriol for him to plot to kill her? He seemed so purposeless; was he even capable of that kind of planning? She knew so little, but she was intent on knowing more. She was not going to sit silently on a list of suspects and do nothing.

  And whoever had killed Kathy needed to be caught. If she could help the police in any way, then she would.

  The phone rang, and Becca answered it, then handed it over to Jaymie. It was Daniel.

  “I was going to just drop in, but I didn’t know if you were resting or whatever. Are you okay?”

  She appreciated the concern she heard in his voice. Jaymie told him what she’d been doing and about the detective’s visit. Becca was gesturing in the background, and Jaymie covered the receiver for a moment.

  “What is it?”

  “Why don’t you ask him over for dinner?”

  “Okay.” Jaymie uncovered the phone receiver, and said, “Hey, Daniel, would you like to come here for dinner tonight? We’re just doing hamburgers on the grill.”

  He agreed enthusiastically, and they hung up, deciding to talk later about the puzzling aspects of Kathy’s death. Jaymie turned to Becca. “I’m going to invite Valetta and Dee, too. I want to figure out what everyone knows about Kathy and if they have any ideas about who might have killed her.”

  “I only wanted you to invite Daniel over so I could get to know him better,” Becca grumbled.

  “I know,” Jaymie said. “But you’ll excuse me if I’m just a little more concerned with being a suspect in a murder case.”

  When Heidi Lockland phoned later to delicately probe about the murder, Jaymie invited her and Joel, too. May as well get used to them getting married, she thought, grimly. Daniel didn’t like Joel much, but they were polite to each other in public. Jaymie called Anna and asked her to come over, but she wasn’t feeling up to it.

  Later, Becca stood at the counter peeling hard-boiled eggs for deviling, while Jaymie chopped vegetables for salad.

  “You know,” Becca said, looking over at her, “I don’t want you to throw away a great guy like Daniel for the sake of Joel.”

  “I’m not throwing Daniel away. I like him, he likes me; I don’t think there’s anything serious yet. Just let it be, okay?” Jaymie said, aggravated. “Just because you get married on the second date, doesn’t mean I will.”

  Becca froze, stared at her for a minute, then went back to work, the smell of boiled eggs filling the kitchen. Good thing Anna had decided against coming over. Eggs made her ill, right now.

  “I’m sorry,” Jaymie said, glancing over at her sister. “You know I didn’t mean it. I just wish you wouldn’t push so hard about Daniel.”

  “I’ll stop. It’s just…” She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want you to miss out, Jaymie.”

  “On what, marriage?”

  She shrugged. “Marriage, kids, the whole thing.”

  Jaymie realized that Becca rarely talked about her inability to have kids. It was a tender spot, one that had only been spoken of twice that Jaymie could remember. “I know you mean it in the best way, Becca, but it has to be right. For me.”

  Becca reached over and gave her a quick hug. “Let’s get this show on the road, since you’ve invited everyone we know over. What vintage junk do you want to use as serving pieces this time?”

  Jaymie laughed. “I’ll show you.”

  Eight

  THE AIR COOLED as the sun sank behind the trees, glowing golden red and shooting brilliant shafts between leafy branches. Desultory conversation over dinner had sputtered out. There was no point in putting it off any longer. Jaymie had gathered everyone there for a reason. She looked around her circle of friends, and said, “So, does anyone here have any ideas regarding Kathy’s death?”

  Joel, sitting in one of the old Adirondack chairs with Heidi on his lap, said, “I didn’t know her much. I saw her sometimes when I took stuff in to Craig, but that was about it.”

  Heidi cast a questioning look down at him, but said nothing.

  DeeDee said, “My hubby can’t stand Craig. He says he doesn’t trust him. I don’t know why. But he’s never said anything about Kathy.”

  “How about you, though?” Jaymie asked.

  “You can’t cross-examine our friends, Jaymie,” Becca protested.

  “I’m just asking,” Jaymie snapped back. She did wish sometimes that Becca wouldn’t interfere. She was a lot like Joel, in many ways, but if Jaymie told Becca that, her sister would hit the roof.

  “It’s okay, Becca; Jaymie just wants to get to the bottom of things. Kathy was a good woman in some ways,” Dee volunteered. “I was on a hospital fund-raising committee for Wolverhampton General with her. She worked hard…harder than most of the others.”

  “But what about her personally?” Jaymie pressed her advantage.

  Sighing, Dee shrugged, and said, “I couldn’t warm up to her. I know how much grief she caused you, Jaymie, and I just figured I didn’t need her brand of drama in my life.” She fiddled with the strap of her leather sandals, and muttered, “She seemed to have problems with a lot of people, even on the committee.”

  Valetta, usually one to stick up for anyone who was being criticized, quietly added, “Kathy was troubled. I worried about her a lot. You saw how she was yesterday; I thought she was going to blow her top when Johnny came along the Boardwalk path.”

  “Did anything happen when Daniel and I went for a walk? Or when I took Hoppy home?” Jaymie had already tried to pump Becca for information, but with Kev
in there, she hadn’t noticed a thing. Perhaps the others had been more observant.

  A couple of them exchanged glances. There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the sound of a breeze rustling through the poplar trees, tossing the high branches. Valetta wrinkled her forehead in thought, and said, “Well, let’s see. When Kylie and Andy arrived with Connor, Connor wanted to run to Kathy, but Kylie restrained him. I couldn’t figure out why they sat there, with the whole park available. I mean, everyone knows Kylie has had trouble with her sister, but Kylie and Andy sat down right next to Kathy and Craig.”

  “It looked to me like Andy and Craig were in cahoots to try to get the sisters to get along,” Dee said.

  “Maybe,” Becca said. “But still, Kylie kept Connor away from Kathy.”

  “Until later,” Jaymie said. “When I came back from taking Hoppy home, Kathy, Kylie and Andy were all sitting together, and Connor was on Kathy’s lap.” She paused, then said, “Does anyone know about Kathy and Craig moving to Toledo to open a branch office of Laskan Cooper?” She looked around.

  Joel cleared his throat, but shook his head when Jaymie looked toward him.

  “Isn’t anyone curious?” she probed.

  “I think it was a plan that was in the works, but I didn’t know they had decided on it for sure.” Valetta shrugged. “I might be able to find out more.”

  “Why do you want to know any of this?” Daniel, who had been silent until that moment, eyed Jaymie with alarm. “You are going to let the cops take care of this one, aren’t you? You almost got killed last time there was trouble, Jaymie.”