Powdered Peril

by Jessica Beck

  “Go on, I’m always eager to hear what you’ve got to say,” I said.

  “After we get a list of names of folks who were at the Boxcar when it happened, why don’t we ask them if they happened to see anyone outside, either when they went in, or when they left?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. “Let’s go talk to Trish.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “Trish, I know this isn’t the greatest time in the world for you,” I said as I looked around the crowded diner, “but when you get a break, can we talk?”

  “Are you kidding? I always have time for the two of you. What’s up, ladies?” she asked, shaking her ponytail a little as she moved her head toward us. “Is something wrong?” Trish must have noticed Grace’s expression, because she quickly added, “Grace, I didn’t mean to be so flip. I’m sorry about Peter. In a way, I feel sort of responsible for what happened to him.”

  “We know you didn’t kill him, Trish, so you have nothing to apologize for,” Grace said. “From what I’ve heard, you did what you had to when you threw him out, and if he was as drunk at your business as he was when he came to my place, you did the right thing. I can’t imagine anyone blaming you for what happened to Peter.”

  Trish nodded. “That’s a relief. I’m glad you feel that way.”

  “Honestly, if anyone here is to blame, it’s me. I threw him out after you did, and I slapped his face in the process and did my best to humiliate him,” Grace said.

  “You can’t blame yourself for any of that,” I told her. It was the edge of the breakdown I’d been dreading. The odd thing was, though, she was kind of steely when she said it, and that worried me even more.

  “Who do I blame then? It’s not Trish’s fault, and it’s surely not yours,” Grace said softly.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t let me off the hook so easily. I saw a problem, and I ignored it,” Trish admitted. “I could have called him a cab, I might have had one of my regular guys take him home, or I could have even let him sleep it off in back. I didn’t do any of those things. I threw him out, and the next thing you know, someone killed him. If I’d stepped in and done something, he never would have made it to your place, and he wouldn’t have trashed Suzanne’s building, either.”

  Grace reached out and hugged Trish. “So then we both share some of the guilt.”

  Trish nodded as she pulled away. “I guess so. There’s certainly enough of it to go around.”

  I moved toward them and said, “Ladies, let’s not forget one important fact. None of us hit Peter in the back of the head. His killer did that, and that’s who’s responsible for his death, not any of us.”

  Grace nodded. “You’re right. That is what’s important. Trish, we’re going to solve this, and then Suzanne and I are going to wallow and try to drown our grief in ice cream and donuts.”

  “Count me in,” Trish said. “I can mourn with the best of them.” She hesitated, and then said flatly, “That’s not why you’re here, though, is it?”

  “We need your help, but it’s pretty clear we came at a bad time.”

  “It’s always a bad time, if you let it be,” Trish said. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Trish disappeared into the kitchen just as local blacksmith James Settle approached the register to pay his bill. Without giving it another thought, I stepped behind the register, took the bill, rang up the sale, and then gave James his change.

  “I didn’t know you were moonlighting here, Suzanne,” he said.

  “I try not to make a habit of it, but you never know where I might pop up next,” I answered with a grin. The two of us had gotten off to a rough start when he’d tried to pull up the old train rails that ran through the park and near my converted depot, but we’d worked things out, and now I counted him as one of my newest friends.

  James just laughed, and after he was gone, Trish came back to the register with Hilda in tow. “She’s agreed to handle the front while Gladys cooks.”

  “I think ‘agreed’ might be a tad too strong a word,” Hilda protested. “You know I hate running the cash register.”

  “It’s not that bad, and you know it. If Suzanne can do it, surely you can handle it yourself,” Trish said.

  “You saw that?” I asked.

  “You’d be amazed by what I can see from the kitchen,” Trish admitted.

  “Listen, I’m sorry if I stepped over a line.”

  “Are you kidding? If you do need to moonlight, you’ve always got a place to work here with me.”

  I tried to hide the blush I felt coming on. “So, you heard us, too?”

  She laughed. “The mighty Trish hears all and sees all. Listen, I bought us about five minutes before Hilda starts to have a breakdown. Let’s step outside, and you can tell me what I can do to make your lives easier.”

  “No one’s ever offered to do that before,” I said with a smile. “What all does that offer cover, exactly?”

  “More than you know, less than you can imagine,” Trish said. She spied one of the picnic tables she kept in front of the Boxcar for folks who had to wait in line to get in, and she led us to it. “I’ve been on my feet all day, so this is a nice break for me.”

  “Again, we’re sorry about interrupting you at work,” Grace said.

  Trish took her hands in hers and said, “Grace, I’m a huge fan of yours, but if you apologize to me one more time today, I’m going to snap. Understand?”

  Grace managed a slight smile. “Got it.”

  “Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Now, I know you’re both here to ask me about Peter’s murder, but I’m afraid I can’t help you with any details. I didn’t see or hear a thing after I threw him out, and that’s the truth.”

  “We figured as much, but we have a few more questions,” I said.

  Trish grinned, and I asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “Chief Martin gave up a lot easier than you two. He asked me a few general things, and then he moved on. I got the distinct impression that his leads were taking him in another direction. How about yours?”

  “We’re doing the best we can, with our limited resources,” I admitted. “Some folks just won’t talk to us without a badge behind the questions, and not having George or Jake around doesn’t make things any easier, either.”

  After a moment’s pause, she said, “You know, I could always close the diner for a few days and help you do some digging if you’re interested.”

  I knew that Trish depended on her steady income from the diner nearly as much as I did from my donut shop, so it wasn’t an offer she made lightly.

  “We appreciate that,” I said, “but what we really need at the moment is information.”

  “Then ask away. I’m a regular dictionary of facts.”

  “Who was eating at the diner when you threw Peter out?” Grace asked gently.

  “I didn’t physically remove him; you know that, don’t you? He was drunk, so it wasn’t like I had to manhandle him or anything. I showed him the door, told him to scoot until he sobered up, and he did as he was told. That was the total sum of our interaction, I swear it.”

  “What we want to know is,” I asked, “who else was here when you did it? Did anyone leave right after it happened?”

  “And did anyone take off just before you tossed him out?” Grace asked, adding her own follow-up.

  Trish took in all of our questions, and then said, “You’re trying to see who might have done it, and whether they were here or not when I booted him. It’s smart.”

  “We do have our moments,” I said with a grin.

  “And great minds think alike. That happens to be one of the few things Chief Martin did ask me.”

  I felt a little bit deflated knowing that he’d gotten there before me, but at least we were on the same page. “What did you tell him?”

  Trish reached into her pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Actually, I had to make him a list. He’s coming back to get it in half an hour.”

  I spied the names, and then asked Grace, �
�Do you have any paper and a pen on you?”

  She supplied them, and I quickly jotted down the names. Sadly, none of them were on my suspect list, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. If a friend of a friend had been there at the time, it would just have taken one telephone call to get the killer onsite while Peter was so obviously helpless.

  I was just finished copying the list when I heard a familiar voice say, “I’ll take that, if you don’t mind.”

  Chief Martin had come to collect Trish’s list early, and in the process, he’d gotten confirmation that I was indeed digging into his homicide case with both hands.

  * * *

  “Find anything interesting?” he asked as he took Trish’s paper from me.

  “No, not really. I think it’s about what I expected,” I said.

  “Suzanne, this isn’t nearly as amusing as you’re making it out to be.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I know there’s nothing funny about it. You don’t think I actually want to be digging into this murder, do you? It’s not exactly a regular thing for me, Chief.”

  “You sure act like it is sometimes,” he said.

  Grace said, “Don’t blame her, Chief Martin. She’s doing all of this for me. I need to know what happened to Peter.”

  The chief’s tone of voice changed into a softer range as he said to her, “Grace, I understand your frustration, but my department is doing everything in its power to find Peter’s killer. We’ve got resources you can only dream about, and we’re putting them all to the test.”

  “But there are people who will talk to us who won’t be candid with you,” Grace said. “You’ve said so yourself in the past.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe once or twice, but as a matter of course, I’m still the law around here, and I’m the one who investigates any crimes that happen in April Springs.”

  “Tell you what,” Grace said. “We’ll let you have that list to yourself for a day. You can talk to anyone you want to and we won’t interfere. Right, Suzanne?”

  I didn’t want to agree to that, not for one second, but Grace had put me in a position where I really didn’t have much choice. “I promise.”

  “Now hang on one second,” Chief Martin said. “You two are in no position to try to make bargains with me. I’ve been willing to give you a little leeway in the past, but it’s not something you should ever take for granted.”

  “I don’t know. Their offer sounds reasonable to me,” Trish interjected.

  “I don’t recall asking you your opinion, either, young lady,” Martin said.

  Trish grinned at him. “Then think about how much better it is when I just volunteer it. Chief, you know these two almost as well as I do. Frankly, I’m amazed they’re even giving you a day before they start snooping. It’s got to be a hardship for them, and the only way you’re going to stop them is to put them both in jail, and you know that won’t work, for more reasons than I should have to explain to you.”

  Trish had thrown my mother into the mix, no matter how indirectly, and I wasn’t sure how the police chief was going to react. I always did my best to tread very lightly when Momma came up in our conversations, since I never wanted my relationship with her jeopardized by something I said to the police chief.

  He looked at her narrowly, and then nodded. “It’s against my better judgment, and I’ll deny it if any of you lunatics ever repeat it, but I’ll find a way to live with that.”

  I stuck out my hand. “Let’s shake on it, then.”

  The chief took my hand briefly, and then dropped it just as quickly.

  Before he could get away, though, I asked him something that had been gnawing at me since Peter had been thrown out of Trish’s place. “I’m guessing you did an autopsy,” I said.

  “It’s a matter of course, yes,” the chief admitted reluctantly.

  “Did they happen to check to see if Peter was actually drunk when he was killed?”

  Before the chief could answer, Trish said, “Trust me, the man was plowed. I can tell when someone’s faking it, and he was the real deal. Besides, what did he have to gain by getting thrown out of my place?”

  “With Peter, the only thing that’s certain is that you can’t take anything for granted. If he thought someone was on his tail, it might have made more sense to him to act more vulnerable than he really was. If he made a public showing of being falling-down drunk, he may have intended to bait his attacker into making his move.”

  “Actually, that’s not a bad thought,” the chief said. But before I could let the warm and fuzzy feeling run through me, he added, “But sorry, he was nearly twice over the legal limit of public intoxication.”

  Whether the chief realized it or not, he’d just given me something I could work with. I’d been thinking about an entirely different line of questioning, but I could forget about that for now.

  It was pretty clear that the chief wasn’t all that interested in having a question-and-answer session with us, despite a few other things I wanted to ask him. He took the paper I’d given him, folded it up, and put it in his breast pocket. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ve got a list of potential witnesses to go over with my force.”

  After he was gone, Trish said, “Whew, that was a close one. For a second there, I thought we were all going to jail.”

  As much as I appreciated my friend’s help, there was one thing we needed to get cleared up immediately. “Trish, thanks for stepping in, but don’t ever use my mother as a lever against that man again. Understand?”

  “I’m sorry,” Trish said, instantly contrite. “I just couldn’t get him to budge, so I thought that might be a handy way to get him to agree.”

  “If anything like that ever comes up again, trust me; I’ll find a way to handle it myself.”

  “I’ve got it, and I’m sorry, Suzanne,” she said.

  I did my best to smile brightly. “It’s forgotten.”

  She nodded, and then asked, “What are you two going to do now, since you have to wait twenty-four hours?”

  “Actually, we never promised that,” I said. “Grace made it a point to say one day, and as far as I’m concerned, every new day starts at midnight.”

  Trish shrugged. “Okay, but who are you going to call at that time of night?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t look at the list until then.” I stared at the paper in my hand, knowing full well every name that was printed there, since I’d copied it myself so recently. I wasn’t going to use them to pursue any leads, though. A deal was a deal, and if Chief Martin caught me breaking my word to him, all possibilities of cooperation in the future were gone. Not that I’d go back on my word anyway. The way I was raised, a handshake is better than any signed contract, and my good name meant more to me than I could ever explain. In a great many cases, in my opinion, contracts were for cowards who wouldn’t keep their word otherwise.

  “So, what do we do now?” Grace asked as I folded the list up and put it in my back pocket.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking. I believe we should talk to Rose White and see how much of what we’ve been hearing about her is true.”

  Trish stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. “Well, I’d love to tag along, ladies, but I’ve got a business to run. Keep me informed, though. I’m interested in what you find.”

  * * *

  Grace and I drove to Union Square, but it was all for naught. Rose was gone, or not interested in answering our repeated knocks on her door.

  Either way, it didn’t appear that we’d be talking to her anytime soon.

  “I think we should probably just call it a day,” I said as Grace and I headed back to April Springs. We’d been putting in some miles today, but mostly it felt as though we’d been spinning our wheels again. Every time we found something that might be a lead, it just got more and more convoluted. “We can attack that list tomorrow when we’re fresh.”

  “Do you mind if I see it for a second?” Grace asked. I suddenly realized that she hadn’t had a
chance to read it since I’d copied it down from Trish’s original.

  I started to hand it to her, but I hesitated as I asked, “You’re not going to start digging on your own, are you? We made a promise to the chief of police, Grace.”

  “I’ll abide by what we agreed on,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t start thinking about the best ways to approach these people first thing tomorrow. They might be a little gun-shy after talking to Chief Martin, so we might not be able to come at them all so directly.”

  “Okay,” I said as I handed the list to her, “but don’t do anything without me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said.

  So, why did I have the feeling that she might, anyway?

  I knew that I couldn’t babysit her, though. Grace was a grown woman, and if she wanted to do something she thought was right, I couldn’t stop her.

  I just hoped that she wouldn’t.

  As we drove home, Grace looked up at the sky and said, “It looks like a storm is on its way, Suzanne.”

  I glanced up at the quickly darkening sky, and saw flashes of lightning in the distance toward April Springs. We got fierce spring thunderstorms sometimes in our part of North Carolina, blackening the day as though it were nighttime; the lightning was particularly intense at our cottage. Since it was surrounded by so many trees, it wasn’t all that unusual to hear the cracks of lightning even as the thunder exploded, and we’d lost a few trees over the years in powerful storms. I would have given just about anything to be safe in my room at the moment, though. I had a bad feeling about just how much of a punch this particular storm might have.

  The rain came then, suddenly and in waves, slapping fists of water at the car. I couldn’t imagine how Grace was able to drive in it. “Maybe we should pull over and wait this out,” I suggested.

  “It’s fine, Suzanne. I can still see,” she said, just a little intensely since she was concentrating so hard on keeping her company car on the road. I could see her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers were nearly white.

  Then the hail hit, pounding down within the rain, round balls of ice the size of pennies beating down on us like hammers.