by Maddie Day
Her shoulders slumped and despair tinted her eyes, but she didn’t argue with me.
Don walked in the door at ten o’clock sharp. I greeted him and pointed to where Roberto still sat. Maria had gone back upstairs a few minutes earlier.
“I’ll bring coffee, Don. Are you going to eat, too?”
“I think I just might. I’m pretty partial to blueberries.” He smiled and headed to my father’s table with more of a spring in his step than I’d ever seen. Looked like confession was good for the soul. Or maybe it was his conscience it benefited.
Getting the ladies group seated and fed took the three of us much of the next hour. From Kentucky, they were as delightful as they said my store was. One told me she’d heard of us and had organized members of the Louisville Culinary Club to come up here on a field trip. Too bad the Bluegrass Omelet had been yesterday’s special, not today’s.
Chase trotted down the interior steps and slid into a seat at the last available table. I worried the next time the door bell jangled. If it was another van of tourists, they were going to have to wait. Instead, the customer was Anne Henderson. She waved to me and strode straight to Chase’s table. How did she know he’d just come downstairs? Maybe she’d made an appointment to talk with him further.
I carried over the coffeepot for Chase—and for my own curiosity. “Good morning, Chase and Detective Henderson. Coffee for both of you?” Henderson hadn’t sat yet.
“I’ll take some, thanks.” Chase blinked at Henderson. “Can I help you, Detective?”
So it wasn’t an appointment, after all.
“I had a few more questions for you and you haven’t been responding to my messages. May I sit?”
He waved at the other chair. “Be my guest,” he said, but he didn’t sound too happy about it. He pulled a phone out of his shirt pocket and widened his eyes. “Well, would you just look at that? I turned it off last night and forgot to switch it back on this morning.”
Henderson nodded once, slowly, kind of like she didn’t believe him, and took the chair opposite. She glanced up at me. “I’d love some coffee, thank you.”
I poured for each. “I’ll be back to get your orders in a minute.”
“Only coffee for me,” the detective said.
“And I’ll have what I had yesterday,” Chase added.
“Granola, yogurt, and fruit. Got it.” I stepped away. I didn’t have an excuse in the world to stand there and eavesdrop, so I took the coffeepot around to other tables until it was empty. When I returned to the cooking area to start another pot, I caught Danna looking longingly at Henderson, like she couldn’t wait to talk to her about Isaac.
“Danna, fix a healthy plate and take it to Chase, please.” She could ask Henderson if there was any news while she was there.
I helped Turner plate up the last of the ladies’ meals and carried them to a four-top.
One of them, a blue-haired matron, smiled at me. “We love what y’all have done with the store, Miz Jordan. We come up here a couple few years ago and this place was the saddest thing, all run down.”
I nodded. It had been neglected, for sure. Running the store had gotten too much for Jo, the previous owner, and she’d been glad to unload it for a reasonable price into my hopeful hands. That she also handed over the treasure trove of antique kitchen implements was a double plus for me, and I had Adele to thank for inviting me to check out the place after Mom died. I loved that I was pretty much living my dream, at least when murder didn’t interfere.
“I’m glad you came back, and I hope we’ll see you again,” I responded. “The leaves are really something to see in the fall.”
“Oh, we know. We’ll be back for sure, won’t we, girls?”
Her friends all nodded.
“We heard about Miz Berry’s death,” Blue Hair went on. “She was my cousin’s brother-in-law’s sister. What a crying shame, and so soon after her own daughter’s murder. They anywheres near finding the evil person who ended Miz Berry’s life?”
My gaze shifted to the detective, and then back to my customer. “I’m not sure.”
“But aren’t you a private detective? You helped catch the scoundrel who killed Erica, my cousin said.”
The rest of the ladies were rapt, gazing at me in awe. Sheesh.
I had to nip this in the bud immediately. “No, not at all. I’m a chef and a carpenter. It was the police who solved the case. Exactly like they will this one, too. Enjoy your meals, ladies.” I smiled and turned away.
At Chase’s table, Henderson sat erect, her tablet in front of her, but it didn’t look like Chase was saying anything. Danna arrived with Chase’s breakfast. I was too far away to hear what she asked the detective. Whatever the reply was apparently gave Danna a bit of hope. I met her back at the kitchen area.
“She said she could send someone out to check out his property, because it’s in unincorporated territory,” Danna said a bit breathlessly. “At least that’s something. I just want to know what happened to him.”
“Good, then.” I surveyed the restaurant. There were no urgent needs at the moment. “Danna, why don’t you take five or ten minutes break. Turner, you go after her, okay? I’ll take the grill if anybody new comes in.”
“Aye-aye, skipper,” Turner said.
Danna headed off for the ladies’ room. I pushed a couple of unclaimed sausages onto the cooler end of the grill and started a pot of water to boil for the noodles. I could cool them down quickly in ice water when they were done. I forked up one of the sausages and ate it standing, I was so hungry. As I did, I spied Chase rise, shaking his head at Henderson. Whatever she wanted, he wasn’t delivering. Because he didn’t know, or because he didn’t want to share?
He slid his hands in his pockets and strolled toward me. “I won’t be back until late tonight,” he said as he passed.
“Enjoy your day,” I replied.
“Not sure it’s the best business practice to let a sheriff’s detective make this her second office, you know,” he said in an officious tone.
Yeah. Don’t tell me what to do, buddy. I merely smiled. “Catching a murderer or two takes a pretty high priority. If it will help her, I’m all for it.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t contradict me, and headed for the front door.
I saw a hand waving. It was Henderson’s hand, so I trucked over there.
“Ms. Jordan, I am also very interested in speaking with Beth Ferguson, who is also not responding to my messages. Could you possibly take me to her room?”
“Are you going to search it?”
“No, I don’t have a warrant. But I do have some questions. Perhaps knocking will achieve what a voice mail has not.”
Danna had emerged from the restroom.
“Sure, one second.” I went over and asked Turner to hold off on his break for a couple of minutes, and asked Danna to cover for me. “I shouldn’t be long. The detective wants to check something upstairs. Oh, and the pot of water is for the soba.”
They both nodded
“And the Hot Brown sandwich for the special today?” Danna asked.
“Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. I don’t think we have time for both.” I grabbed the master keys from my desk and led Henderson up the stairs and to Beth and Ed’s room. I knocked. “Beth? Ed? Can you open the door, please?” I listened but got no response. “They might have already gone out for the day,” I murmured to Henderson. I knocked again, louder and longer. “Beth?”
The door to my father’s room opened instead, and Maria stuck her head out. “What it is?” She held a hairbrush and had applied a new coat of lipstick. Her eyes widened and her face paled when she saw the detective.
“We’re trying to get them to open the door,” I said.
She shook her head. “Not there. They go out, maybe thirty minuti. They drive.”
“Thanks, Maria.”
She shut the door before I was barely finished speaking, clicking the lock shut. I was pretty sure she didn’t want to join
the line of people Henderson was questioning. I held up my master key.
“Want to peek?” I asked Henderson.
The detective held up both hands. “As long as you’re clear it wasn’t at my instigation.”
“Clear.” I fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open. And then stared. They’d left the room as messy as before, but all their personal belongings were gone. No shoes, no suitcases. I checked the bathroom. No Dopp kit or cosmetics case.
I turned back to Henderson. “They weren’t going to check out until Sunday. They’re gone.”
Again she nodded once, slowly. “Very interesting. I assume they didn’t stiff you for the bill?”
“No. I have their credit card information. I’ve already turned away guests who wanted to come only for the weekend, so you can be sure I’ll charge my early departures the whole amount.” I ought to keep back a cleaning fee, too. “I have Ed’s home address downstairs if you want it.”
“That would be very helpful, Ms. Jordan. Very helpful indeed.”
“Detective, while we’re alone, I should tell you that Beth and Sue Berry had an argument Tuesday night at the festival.”
“Oh?”
“Sue accused her of sneaking into the festival without paying. Beth said she’d forgotten her purse. I doubt that’s motive to murder someone, but Ed told me Beth was prone to throwing fits, to sudden anger.”
“Funny, he didn’t tell me that,” Henderson said.
“But he told you she went out on long solo runs in the mornings?”
“Yes, he admitted as much.”
“I also wondered if Beth and Sue might have had some kind of run-in in the past. Yesterday when I asked Beth if she’d known Sue before, she nearly lost it with me. It seemed like she was lying when she said she hadn’t.”
“Ms. Jordan, please remember that I am a trained officer of the law, specifically a homicide detective. You are not to question persons of interest.” Her dark eyebrows came together as she stared at me.
“Of course not. It was just a casual question.” I drew one hand behind me and crossed my fingers at my own little lie. “Have you made any progress on either murder? I’d hate to think my father and stepmother were sleeping up here on the same floor as a killer.” I kept my voice low, not that I thought Maria was listening in, or that she’d understand if she was.
Henderson let out the smallest of sighs. “I can’t share such information with a civilian. Surely you know that by now.” She regarded me with tilted head.
“Of course I know, but I’m concerned for my family.”
“I will mention I am somewhat dismayed at Mr. Rowling’s disappearance. These two characters, as well.” She gestured at the Sapphire room. “I mentioned to Rowling he needed to stay in the county and be available.”
“We’re all concerned that he’s missing, at least Danna and I are. You know he’s a veteran who was deployed to the Middle East, right?
“Very much aware, thank you. And I’m well versed in the reactions those suffering from PTSD can experience.”
“Of course.” She clearly wasn’t going to tell me a thing, and I didn’t seem to have anything new to tell her, either. “I’d better be getting back to my customers.” At her nod, I locked the door again.
I realized I needed to find another B&B owner to ask what the protocol was when your guests check out two days early. Should I clean the room today and hope someone else still wanted it for the weekend, or leave it as is in case Beth and Ed—or one of them—came back before Sunday noon? They still had the keys, too. I sighed. I’d have to change the lock now. Maybe I should check into how big hotels programmed those key cards. Except I didn’t have time to think about any of it until after I closed today.
Chapter Thirty-two
Nothing had blown up downstairs in my absence, thank goodness. After we descended from checking out Beth and Ed’s room, I jotted down Ed’s home address from the slip he’d filled out when he and Beth registered. I included his license plate number, which I also required from guests, and the make and model of his car.
I handed Henderson the piece of paper. “I didn’t get Beth’s address, unfortunately, and Ed said they don’t live together.”
“Please inform me if they happen to resurface,” Detective Henderson said.
“I promise. Before you go, could you also take a look at my back door? I heard noises in the night and I think somebody tried to break in.”
She gave me one of those stern Seriously? looks. “You didn’t call it in.”
“I didn’t realize that was what I was hearing in the night. Obviously whoever did it wasn’t successful. I just remembered it while I was getting ready to open this morning and we’ve been almost too busy to breathe since then.”
“I’ll check it out.”
“Thank you.” I listened to the bell jangle after her without any real hope of the police learning from the scratches on the lock plate. I pointed to Turner. “Break time.”
Danna took over on the grill and I circulated among the tables asking if I could get the ladies something else. My blue-haired friend beckoned me over.
“I knew it,” she said with an air of excitement. “You went upstairs with the lady sheriff to look for clues, didn’t you?”
I shook my head. “Not really. She wanted to talk with two of my B&B guests, but they weren’t there.”
“Girls,” she addressed her friends, none of whom could be any younger than sixty. “Next time, we’ll have to stay here in Miz Jordan’s B&B. Maybe we can be amateur sleuths, too!”
“Is there anything else I can get you today?” I asked, ignoring their eagerness to go all Nancy Drew on me. Or Miss Marple, more accurately.
“I think we’ll just take the check, thanks,” said Blue Hair, after checking with her tablemates. “This has been a pure delight, Miz Jordan.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I have a reservation system on my Web site for the rooms, so be sure you look at that if you’re interested in staying here. I’d be happy to have you.” Maybe. I laid their ticket on the table.
Don and Roberto stood and exchanged a hearty man-hug and a handshake before Don left.
“I go upstairs for a bit,” Roberto told me. “Then Maria and I will walk around town. We don’t need the driving trip. This is fine with you?”
“You bet. I’m glad you and Don were able to reconnect.”
“I also.” My father beamed and headed for the stairs.
As I watched him go, I realized I hadn’t talked with Henderson about Maria’s stalker, and the fact that he was Pia’s cousin. Maybe I’d subconsciously withheld that bit. I didn’t want Maria to have any involvement in this case. The police might think differently, though. For now I was going to let them do their own research on Maria Fracasso.
The next half hour was spent taking money and making change for food and vintage cookware. Danna cleaned up while Turner chopped vegetables and threw together a massive bowl of spicy Asian noodles. The combo of snap peas, slivered red sweet pepper, and julienned carrot in tangy slightly sweet, slightly spicy dressing of rice vinegar, soy sauce, peanut oil, and a bit of sugar all mixed into buckwheat soba noodles was a hit. What Hoosiers called spicy wouldn’t even be on the mild scale in southern California, but hey, when in Indiana, do as the Hoosiers do. If I added a few more drops of habanero sauce to my serving, that was my business.
It wasn’t until eleven-thirty that the restaurant completely emptied out, although it was still full of the enticing aromas of bacon, blueberries, and biscuits.
“I hope the lunch rush is late today,” I said, plopping into a chair with a thrown-together grilled cheese-and-bacon sandwich on a plate in front of me. My helpers joined with their own meals, a classic two-over-easy with toast and sausage for Danna and a cheese omelet with the last blueberry muffin for Turner. The three of us munched in silence for a couple minutes.
“Turner,” I began, “I think I’d like to take some food over to Glen Berry later. Think there
’s enough noodle salad for me to save some out for him?”
“Sure. If we run out, I’ll whip up more. It doesn’t take very long, and we have plenty of everything.”
I thanked him and popped in my last bite as the door bell jangled. So much for our rest. I stood and turned to see Abe strolling toward our table. I sat again, smiling and patting the chair next to me.
“Hey, guys,” he said, sliding into the chair. Greetings were exchanged all around, including a kiss on the cheek for me. “I got off early today, and where better to eat lunch than here?” He wore the green shirt of the rural electrical cooperative, a color that suited him.
Turner started to stand but Abe waved him down. “No rush. Looks like you all are taking your break. I’m not so hungry I can’t wait a few minutes.” He regarded Danna. “I was working out on Route 135 this morning near Story, and I saw your man.”
The road to Story—the former town which now was a successful restaurant and inn—was also where Abe’s parents lived.
Danna, who had been swiping up egg yolk with a piece of toast, whipped her head up. “You did? You saw Isaac?”
“Yup.”
“Where was he?” she asked.
“I was down near where Stone Head used to be.”
The hundred-and-eighty-year-old Stone Head had been a delightful sight. It was the oddest road marker I’d ever seen, a carved man’s head with a Mona Lisa smile, crossed arms with hands pointing in opposite directions. Carved into the front and sides were the mileages to towns at all points of the compass. It had been vandalized more than once, but the last time, the head had never been found. Now a local man had carved a gravestone memorializing the marker.
“Rowling was in his truck ahead of me coming back this way,” Abe went on. “You know how the road jogs left at the Stone Head site? He went straight instead, onto Bellsville Pike.”
“Wow, man,” Danna said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She got up and threw her arms around Abe for a moment, then stood back, eyes agleam.
“Did you lose him or something?” Abe looked puzzled and glanced at me.