“We’re almost there.” Jonas turned into a gravel side road. “I hope I didn’t spoil your appetite with all this murder talk.”
“Not at all. I find it rather… Exciting is the wrong word, as someone died and that’s terrible, but the riddle of it, searching for answers, is thrilling.” She added, “But if the sheriff is right this time with his first arrest, there is no more case already.”
Jonas braked. “I doubt it. Abe Jarvis is too easy a suspect. And was he really anywhere near the party? Maybe he can come up with an alibi and clear himself. The murder happened between five thirty and six o’clock. Pretty narrow window, so if Jarvis can prove he was, say, getting gas on the other side of town…” He pointed ahead. “What do you think?”
The lit windows of the restaurant seemed to wink at them with a friendly shine. It was a two-story building, mainly constructed out of wood, with stone elements at its base. Antlers sat over the entry doors, and a year was carved into the lintel—1963.
“They have a great terrace by the water,” Jonas said, “but it’s not summer now, so we’ll have to sit indoors. Come on.” He got out and Delta followed suit. A friendly waiter welcomed them and led them to a table against the far wall, at a window. In the sill were small cacti in pots, and on the table, colorful candles flickered in glass jars.
Jonas gave her chair that little polite push in place, and for a moment, Delta felt like this was truly a date. But it was a case discussion, really, and that was fine with her. After all, she had just told Jonas how exciting it was to hunt for clues. Together.
After they had ordered drinks from the waiter, Delta pulled her notebook from her purse and showed Jonas her case file. “Don’t laugh. I know it doesn’t look as professional as your whiteboard at the police station did, but it helps a lot to keep everything straight. I’m adding Sally’s husband’s full name—Abe Jarvis. If I could only find my pen.” She dug through her purse.
“I’m not laughing. After all, I asked you to help me.” Jonas gave the sheets a quick once-over and nodded with a satisfied expression. “Not bad at all. Here.” He handed her a ballpoint from his pocket. “Also add the information I gave you about the will and the husband coming off as controlling before they split.”
“According to that colleague from the museum,” Delta added with a bit of rebuttal.
“You think she may have a reason to lie?” Jonas sounded incredulous.
“Not to lie maybe, but…after you heard something, you can see the things you experienced earlier in a different light. Maybe when the husband answered the phone, the colleague didn’t think anything of it. But now it’s proof he was controlling his wife. You get my point?”
“Yes, of course. You’re right.” With a suddenly very serious frown, Jonas straightened the cutlery beside his plate. Discomfort crackled in his tense movements. “I’m guilty of that myself. Right after the murder, I recalled seeing Sally Drake in town, talking to a man whom she seemed to want to shake off. She walked away, and he was following her, pleading with her it seemed. I mentioned this to one of the deputies at the party. When I heard they had Abe Jarvis locked up, I called to ask if my description of this man in the street matched Jarvis, but the deputy said it didn’t. So, my idea that Jarvis had harassed her before and had then come to the party was totally wrong.”
Delta frowned. “Sally wanted to shake off another man besides her husband?”
“Yes, it seemed so at the time. But maybe I’m influenced by the knowledge she was murdered. Maybe he asked her for the way to the museum and she said she didn’t know since she was new to town, and he walked along, asking if she could then tell him where to find tourist information or something like that. It could have been innocent.”
“Still, what did that guy look like?”
“Tall, blond, in his forties. Her husband is also in his forties, but he’s short, thickset, and dark-haired.”
“I see.” Delta drew a new figure on the lower side of her case file sheets and wrote beside him: tall, blond, forties, mystery man, accosted (?) Sally Drake in the street. “And did you ever see this man again?”
“Can’t say I have, but I will keep an eye out for him.”
The tone of his voice made her glance up. “You’re laughing at me.”
“No, no, I think your enthusiasm for it all is rather cute.”
Cute, huh? Delta looked down quickly and pretended to be sketching in some details.
The waiter brought the drinks, and Jonas lifted his glass. “To a good night.”
“To a great night. You chose a beautiful place.”
“Like I said, it’s even better in summer when you can sit outside, but we’ll have to make do. Let’s have a look at the menu.”
Delta sipped her mineral water while leafing through the extensive menu of delicious salads, great fish dishes, vegetarian burgers, and desserts. The desserts especially drew her attention, and she salivated at the idea of triple chocolate ice cream with pecan nuts drizzled with salted caramel. Or meringue with caramelized pear. Or warm apple crumble with vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. Or…
“Do you want to start with dessert?” Jonas asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Never eat with a former policeman, because he sees everything,” Delta countered. “I will be good and start with a salad, okay?” The idea of a leisurely dinner with Jonas, hours of his time, made her feel all warm and comfy, like the world was right as it should be.
A low beep rang out, and Jonas reached for his pocket. Pulling up his phone, he said, “This won’t take long” and before she knew it, he had left the table to take the call.
Hmm. Nothing was perfect, right? She watched Jonas’s back, as if his stance could betray something about the conversation. Why does he have to be so busy? Can’t they leave him in peace for a night?
He came back already and reseated himself. He held up the phone to Delta. “Just what I wanted to hear.”
“What?” Delta had been about to sip her drink but held her glass midair, waiting for a spectacular revelation.
Jonas leaned back, stretching the suspense.
“What?” Delta pressed.
“Well, you can guess that West isn’t eager to share anything with me. Regardless of whether his deputy asked me to help out with all the guests yesterday, or the fact that Drake hired me to look after his wife at the party. He’s not giving me much, certainly not about the specific details in the case. Fortunately, I have a few contacts I can tap into when I really have to, and I thought I should know about this. Because it’s so important when we’re assuming motive.”
Delta still clutched the glass on its way to her mouth. “Yes?”
“That will Sally Drake made, which left everything to her husband…”
“Isn’t valid anymore,” Delta guessed. “She made a new will anyway, and the husband doesn’t get a thing. But if he didn’t know that…”
Jonas shook his head. “It’s still valid all right. But he doesn’t get much. Sally Drake didn’t have anything worthwhile to her name. The house in LA, which she left, is her husband’s. Her bank account is about empty. She even has a few overdrawn credit cards. She apparently paid for their luxury lifestyle—think dinners, city trips, and even biannual cruises. Her salary at the museum was too modest for that, so she must have been spending her family’s money until there was nothing left.”
“Meaning Abe Jarvis is actually going to be paying for her debts?”
“Exactly. And he knew about that, because Sally had already hired a lawyer to start divorce proceedings, and the financial situation had been discussed and seemed simple to handle, mainly because the house was his, and they didn’t have a business together. There were no children either, so the lawyer thought it could be arranged fairly quickly.”
Delta stared at Jonas. “Her husband had no reason to kill her, because even though he would sti
ll inherit from her, there was nothing worthwhile to get.”
“Exactly.” Jonas pocketed his phone. “I’m not saying it excludes him as the killer, because he might have just been too angry to think straight once he saw her again, or she told him anew why she wanted to leave him. What do I know about the strain on their relationship after she left? But from all sides, I heard he wanted money from her. He had sponged off her during the marriage, letting her pay the bills, so why would he kill her and then be left with nothing?”
Delta finally took that sip and put the glass back on the table. “The main question is: If he wanted money, and he knew that Sally was practically broke, why come after her? There was nothing to get from her.”
“Maybe he expected Calvin Drake to give her money?”
“Or gifts, because he felt sorry for her.” Delta sat up. “I recall she wore an expensive-looking necklace and a ring with gemstones. If they are real, they could be valuable.”
Jonas looked at her. “Hey, that is a very good suggestion. What if she came here with virtually nothing, and brother Calvin took pity on her and bought her some things? Nice jewelry. Might be worth something. Hubby sees it and wants to have it. He threatens her with a knife to hand it over, and it goes wrong.”
“There you have it. West could be barking up the right tree and we’re looking at all other angles because we like to be thorough.” And because I wouldn’t want to miss this night for the world. She toasted him again. “To all other angles.”
* * *
Jonas halted the Jeep in the drive of Hazel’s cottage and looked at her. Delta’s cheeks were warm from her dessert—she had finally decided on the apple crumble—and she felt more relaxed and happier than she had in a long time.
“Thanks for a fun evening.”
“I had a great time.” Jonas’s blue eyes searched her expression as if he was looking for something there. She was too rosy and comfy to move and sat in the seat, vaguely aware she should be getting out but not wanting to.
“So…good night.” He smiled at her. “Dream something nice, huh. No chasing killers along the lake.” He reached out and brushed the graze on her cheek. “Or cycling into poodles.”
“I didn’t come anywhere near that dog.” Delta said it softly, holding Jonas’s gaze. Her skin tingled where his fingertips had touched her. It seemed he was waiting for something, wavering maybe, making up his mind if… When…
Then he sat up and said, “I’ll uh…call you later, huh? About the case.” The tension broke, bringing her back to reality. This is business, not personal.
“Yeah, sure, the case.” What was I even thinking? “Talk to you later. Good night.” She opened the door and slipped out. The evening air felt chill, and she shivered. He backed up the Jeep and waved at her. Then the car vanished into the night.
She dug into her collar and unlocked the front door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Hazel had already gone to bed, probably, and she didn’t want to wake her. No questions about how it had been. Delta didn’t want to put into words how she had felt, what it had been like. She couldn’t talk about it.
Suddenly, the light in the hallway went on, and Delta blinked furiously. At the top of the stairs, Hazel stood in a flaming-red dressing gown, looking down on her. “Did he kiss you?”
“Who?” Delta shaded her eyes against the stabbing bright light.
“Jonas. Did he kiss you? The Jeep stood there for a few minutes before he pulled out.”
Delta recalled them having these kinds of discussions in college after dates, and it had never bothered her then. Indeed, being so in love back then, she could have talked about the chosen one for hours on end. Now, she was annoyed that Hazel was awake and wanted to get into bed as fast as possible.
“You’re flushing,” Hazel teased.
“We’re just friends.” Delta hung her coat on the rack and carried her purse up the stairs. She brushed past Hazel. “I don’t like it when friendship is put under pressure by the immediate assumption that it has to be more. Not every man and woman who get together once in a while become a couple, you know.”
“Sorry. I thought you liked him. And he likes you.”
“Jonas isn’t the type to really let on,” Delta said, trying not to think of the moments in the Jeep when he had caressed her cheek and she had believed he was going to kiss her. Maybe she had mistaken a friendly gesture for more.
“I’m really tired. Let’s chat in the morning, okay?” She went to her bedroom door.
“Okay.” Hazel sounded disappointed. “Sleep tight then.”
“You too.” Delta closed her door behind her and stood a moment, not quite knowing how she felt. Or, rather, why she felt what she felt. Was she really angry at Hazel for asking questions she had often asked before when they had roomed together in college? Or was she conscious that her relationship with Jonas was something different, not a date, a fun time with a guy she liked? Life was more serious now, of course; she was no longer a student but a business owner in a small town where people looked at you and followed along with the developments in your life. Was she worried about what people might say when they believed she liked Jonas and he didn’t like her back, or at least not in the way she wanted him to?
Afraid of losing face? Or more?
Delta sighed in frustration and started to undress. All those questions could be analyzed some other time. Right now, she needed at least eight hours of undisturbed sleep.
* * *
The little girl picked up the jar of tinsel and threw it in the air. “No!” Delta shouted, but it was too late: the jar burst into a thousand pieces, and a sparkly shower rained down over her. The glitter kept falling until she was knee deep in it. She tried to walk away, but the shimmering mass sucked her down. Lena Laroy stood a few paces away, and Delta called out to her, “Help me. Throw me a line or something.”
Lena smiled enigmatically and kept watching as Delta sank into the glimmer up to her waist, then her neck.
With a gasp, Delta opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. A dream. A nightmare. She pushed the duvet away and tried to breathe evenly. The cold air in the room brushed her bare arms, and she shivered, pulling the duvet back in place. What time was it anyway? She looked at the alarm clock’s illuminated numbers. Almost seven o’clock. She was sure she’d never get back to sleep now, and with the sweat on her back, a shower would be bliss. She slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the landing to the bathroom.
When she wanted to return to her room, to make the bed, she heard noises downstairs. Was Hazel up already? She rushed down the stairs and found her friend in the kitchen, mixing batter. “I thought I’d make pancakes.” Hazel smiled at her. “To make up.”
“For what?”
“Last night. I shouldn’t have jumped at you like I did. I’m sorry.”
Delta looked at her friend’s apologetic expression and the mess in the kitchen at this hour, but she didn’t laugh like she normally would have. She felt very tired and sat down at the table, supporting her head in her hands.
“Is something wrong?” Hazel asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but you’re not yourself.”
Delta took a deep breath. “I don’t know. A new murder, and Jonas asking me to help out… Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten involved. It will create tension around town. Imagine, we about hired a design agency just so we could ask questions about the Drakes.”
“We’re paying Clara Ritter a hundred bucks for her initial design advice, so it’s not like we did her any harm.” Hazel grimaced. “In fact, I had a feeling she sensed what we were after. Or maybe that was my guilty conscience prodding me.” She returned her attention to the batter. “I’m really sorry about last night.”
“That’s okay. I guess I’m not ready to talk about it. To even think about it. I like how Jonas and I can work together and…feelings are going to spoil all that.” Delta rubbed he
r face and leaned back. I don’t want to care too much.
Hazel nodded and poured batter into the buttered frying pan. A hissing sound spread, and soon the smell of fresh pancakes wafted through the kitchen. Hazel put butter, syrup, jelly, and sugar on the table. As she was about to give the first pancake to Delta, there was a knock at the back door. Hazel put the pan down on the counter and went to see who it was. She came back with Mrs. Cassidy and Nugget. The Yorkie sniffed the air and whined, clawing with a paw.
“She wants some, but she can’t have any,” Mrs. Cassidy said with a look at the dog which was half-indulging and half-reproaching.
“But you must have some,” Hazel said, getting an extra plate from the cupboard.
“Thanks, that would be most welcome. I’ve been up and about for an hour already. An elderly friend of mine is moving to a new house, and I went over to help her pack the last few boxes and make sure everything is ready for the movers. She’s only going to the other side of town, but still, to her, it’s a big deal, and she wants it to go down smoothly.”
“I see.” Hazel gave the pancake she had intended for Delta to Mrs. Cassidy and gestured to the jelly and sugar. “Have what you like.”
Mrs. Cassidy spread a liberal amount of strawberry jelly across the pancake and inhaled the scent. “Delicious. I do feel a bit guilty I’m eating your breakfast.” She glanced at Delta.
“There’s enough for everyone,” Hazel assured her. “But why are you here? I assume you didn’t knock in the hopes of a free breakfast.”
“No, I actually have some news about the case.” Mrs. Cassidy pointed her fork at Delta. “You talked to Jonas last night, I heard. Did he have anything new to reveal?”
Delta flushed at the idea that her dinner with Jonas had gotten around so quickly, but then the Paper Posse were well connected. And as long as they thought it was just friendly sleuthing talk…
“Yes, he told me a thing or two about the husband. Abe Jarvis.”
Mrs. Cassidy raised a hand. “Let me see if we found out the same things as Jonas. The guy is arrested; West thinks he’s guilty because he had followed her here to put pressure on her to rethink the decision to divorce him. Oh, and the life insurance of course.”
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