Fish Fry and a Murder

by Kathleen Suzette

  “You don’t think Zack had something to do with it, do you? Is that why you’re asking about the licenses?”

  “It’s early in the investigation yet, and I’m just checking out stories. I found Zack’s fishing license in Rob’s rowboat. I just kind of wondered about it is all,” Cade said.

  “Well, I’d hate to think he might have had something to do with his brother’s death. The Zumbros are good people. Their father used to come out and fish regularly. It was a tragedy that he and his wife died like they did. I’d seen him a week before they had the accident.”

  “Did he say anything of interest?” Cade asked.

  Charlie thought about it a moment. “We talked about a lot of different things. He was a pleasant guy to talk to. I do remember that he asked if I knew a good lawyer. The one he’d used previously had retired.”

  “What did he need a lawyer for?” Cade asked.

  “Said he wanted to change his will. He said he’d been thinking about things and he’d made a mistake. He said he wanted to make things right.”

  My stomach dropped. Had the senior Zumbro changed his mind about his will and decided to divide the money evenly between his sons?

  “Really?” Cade asked. “Did he elaborate?”

  “Nah, he just said he’d had a change of heart about something. I try not to pry into folks’ business, but he seemed kind of regretful,” he said. “Makes me wonder if he somehow knew his time was coming, and that was why he wanted to change it. Some people have a sense of those kinds of things. I hope he got his business taken care of before it was too late.”

  Cade nodded. “I hope so. Makes you think about things when people die suddenly, doesn’t it?”

  “You better believe it. It makes me appreciate my own family that much more,” Charlie said. “I hear the trout are biting. I saw Jim Edwards pull one out of this lake last week that must have weighed fifteen pounds.”

  “Trout are good eating,” Cade said, shooting me a look.

  I rolled my eyes. “You can get perfectly good trout at the grocery store,” I reminded him.

  They both laughed at me. Let them laugh it up, I thought. If we pull another body out of this lake, my fishing days are over.

  “Well, it was good meeting you, Cade,” Charlie said. “I’ve got to make the rounds now.”

  “Good meeting you, too,” Cade said.

  “See you later, Rainey,” he said and carefully headed back to his truck.

  I looked at Cade. “Did you hear that? Mr. Zumbro wanted to make a change to his will!”

  “Sounds like he didn’t get it done,” Cade said.

  “Kind of sad. If he had made the change, maybe Rob would still be alive if it was one of his brothers that killed him,” I said and handed him my fishing pole so he could put bait on the hook.

  “That’s something to think about,” he said. “Stinky marshmallows?”

  “My favorite,” I said.

  If it was true that Mr. Zumbro had intended to change the will, it made things sadder. Rob might not have been entitled to as much money as he had ended up with and maybe he’d be alive now. I had had time to think about things and if my mother left all her money to me, I would definitely give Stormy half of it. Money wasn’t worth splitting families up over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I squinted my eyes as I looked over the recipe I had just typed up. It seemed that something was missing, but I wasn’t sure what. I picked up the piece of paper I had jotted down the ingredients on. It was stained with butter and floury smudges. The Baklava I had made for Cade last month had been delicious. Although not exactly an American recipe, it was still a tradition in many American homes at Christmas time and I thought I could get away with including it. The problem was, I had written down the amounts of flour and sugar, and then crossed them out and re-wrote them next to it. I had made the recipe four times, not quite satisfied with the results, and changed the amounts of nearly every ingredient each time. It would have been easier to start with a known recipe and make tweaks, but when I get something in my head, I’ve got to try it out. So went the Baklava recipe.

  Maggie lay at my feet, snoring lightly. I ran a toe along her ribs and she rewarded me with a thump of her tail against the floor. The doorbell rang, and she raised her head, all attention on the office doorway now.

  “Let’s see who that is,” I said and got up.

  Maggie padded after me as I headed to the front door. “Hey, Stormy, Mom,” I said when I opened the door. “What are you two doing?” The snow was falling softly, making my front yard look like a winter wonderland.

  “We wanted to see what you were up to,” Stormy said.

  “I’m working on the cookbook,” I said and led the way into the kitchen. “Coffee anyone?”

  “I’d love some coffee,” Mom said. “Maggie, you get prettier every time I see you.” She reached down and scratched Maggie’s ear.

  “I think she’s been wondering where you’ve been,” I told her as I went to the coffee pot and measured out ground coffee.

  “Well I missed her, too,” Mom said in baby-talk she reserved for animals and small children.

  “Mom has something to show you,” Stormy announced.

  I turned to look at her, the water pitcher poised to pour into the coffee pot. “You do?”

  Mom shrugged. “I was digging in an old box and I found something.”

  I turned back to the coffee pot and finished filling it with water. “What’s that?” I poured the water into the machine and turned it on.

  “This,” she said, holding out a yellowed envelope.

  “What’s that?” I asked, taking it from her. Her name and our old address were printed neatly on the front in large block letters and numbers.

  “A letter from Barron Zumbro. I didn’t realize I still had it, but when you mentioned him the other day, I got to thinking about him and remembered he had sent me a letter. I swore I didn’t have it anymore, but I thought I’d check in an old box that I kept letters and cards in. And there it was.”

  “Can I read it?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Sure, why not? There’s really nothing personal in it, I just thought it was interesting since you brought his name up. I had forgotten all about him, to tell you the truth. I’m surprised he even remembered you.”

  I nodded and opened the envelope, taking out the yellowed pages. The coffee pot was perking and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. I sank down into a chair and leaned on the table, unfolding the letter. There were two pages, each filled with the same large block letters that were on the envelope. Apparently Barron wasn’t much on cursive.

  Dearest Mary Ann,

  I know this letter may surprise you, but I couldn’t keep myself from writing. I completely understand why you don’t want to see me again, but I wanted to ask you to give me one more chance. No, I wanted to beg you to give me one more chance. I know there are rumors going around this town about me, but you have to understand that most of them aren’t true. I suppose there are some things that are true, but you have to believe me when I say that I’ve repented for my misdeeds, and I’ve changed.

  Mary Ann, I can give you a good life. I’m a changed man and I can be a good step-father to your daughters. One that you would be proud of. I can promise you that. Will you just give me one more chance?

  I looked up at Mom. She was twiddling her thumbs, and she shrugged. “I don’t know how I forgot about that letter.”

  “I don’t either,” I said and continued reading. The rest of the letter detailed what he thought would be a happy life with her and me and Stormy. It could have been seen as sweet, but for some reason, it felt kind of icky. “He sounded desperate.”

  “It’s weird,” Stormy said. “He didn’t even know her that well and he was practically proposing.”

  I nodded. “It is weird.” Barron seemed to make an attachment to my mother, and by extension, to Stormy and me. I didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or not, but i
t made me uncomfortable.

  “I just thought I’d bring it by for you to read. I didn’t call it off with him for any reason other than I missed your father. I explained that to him, but he thought he could change my mind,” Mom said.

  “It seems like he thought you didn’t want to go out with him because of rumors you may have heard about him,” I said.

  Mom was quiet a moment. “I remember a conversation I had with him. He said his parents had cut him out of their will. He was angry. They were going to leave all their money to his brother.”

  “That sounds familiar,” I said. “Why did they cut him out of the will?”

  “Because he had shamed them. His drug and alcohol use cost him a chance at qualifying for the Olympics and his parents couldn’t seem to forgive him.”

  “Seems kind of harsh,” I said. “His parents were still alive at the time he wrote this letter?”

  She nodded. “I guess they had a small fortune, according to Barron. They had scrimped and saved all their lives. Their businesses didn’t seem to work out, but somehow they had put away half a million dollars and they were leaving all of it to his brother.”

  “He told you how much money it was?” I asked and got up to pour coffee. I got the sugar and cream from the refrigerator and set them on the table.

  “Yes, he told me it was a half-million. I wondered if it was true because he seemed so intently focused on the number. It made me feel like he might be exaggerating the amount. Like maybe he didn’t really know how much there was and he was just guessing.”

  “Is that what freaked you out?” I asked her and got three cups down. Sarah said Rob’s bank account had three hundred thousand, but it easily could have originally been a half-million.

  “I wasn’t freaked out. It was just weird. I think I compared him to your father, and I realized he couldn’t measure up. But then, no man ever could. Your father was such a wonderful man. I thought that if it was meant to be, then I should feel more comfortable. Otherwise, I’d stay by myself. I had you girls to think about. Plus Natalie was a toddler, and I didn’t want someone I didn’t feel completely comfortable about around her.”

  I felt bad for Mom. I hadn’t thought much about her dating. She hadn’t had much interest, and I thought she was happy. But maybe she was lonely and would have appreciated some companionship.

  “After reading that letter, I’m glad you went with your instincts,” I said and poured the coffee into the cups. “He seemed desperate. Bill from the newspaper told me he didn’t seem to have much direction in life after he got kicked out of college. Honestly, he could have gone to another college and made something of himself. It stinks that he couldn’t get himself together before it was too late to compete at the Olympics, but still, he could have had a career,” I said and sat down again. “How has he supported himself all these years?”

  She shrugged. “At the time we went out, he worked as an usher at the movie theater.”

  “What does Cade say about the murder?” Stormy asked, pouring cream into her coffee.

  Maggie lay down at Mom’s feet and groaned, resting her chin on her shoe.

  “He’s still looking into it. I think he may have an arrest soon, but that’s between the three of us. Rob’s brothers are kind of sketchy.”

  “Oh,” Stormy said sadly. “I hate to hear that. They’re both really nice guys. Or at least I thought they were.”

  “Well, I’m not saying he will definitely arrest them. They just seem suspicious,” I said.

  “Did he say why specifically?” she asked. “He has to have something solid before he arrests anyone, right?”

  I regretted telling her Cade might arrest them. I had momentarily forgotten that she was friendly them. “He keeps most things to himself. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know for sure that he will arrest either of them.”

  She nodded. “I won’t say anything to anyone, and maybe Cade will change his mind.”

  I sighed. I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. The letter from Barron was interesting, and it gave me insight into his personality. It also gave me a little insight into my mother’s life, but I was glad she had chosen to break it off with him. I suspected he might have been interested in her because she owned her own business and needed someone to support him.

  Chapter sixteen

  “What’s that?” Sam asked, peering into the plastic bowl that I held.

  “The dry ingredients of my new herb battered coating for fried fish. I thought of it in the middle of the night. Cade is determined to make me go fishing again, so I figured I may as well cooperate and whip up a tasty flavorful coating for fish that will fry up nice and crisp.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I was thinking you might bring us cupcakes.”

  “Why would I bring in cupcakes?” I couldn’t remember promising cupcakes, but maybe I had forgotten.

  He shrugged. “I’m in the mood for them and I was hoping you could read my mind.” He went back to the grill and scrubbed it with a wire brush. We had a lull between the breakfast and lunch customers and Sam was using that time to clean the grill.

  “I can’t read minds,” I said and went to the refrigerator and peered in. “So, no enthusiasm for fried fish?”

  “Sounds good. We just got some trout fillets in. You could try it on that,” he said.

  “Trout?” Ron white, our dishwasher asked, turning toward me. “I like trout.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” I said. “Enthusiasm for the fish.” I pulled out two eggs and a gallon of milk and set them on the counter. Then I took a shallow bowl from the cupboard and cracked the eggs into it, and then I added milk and whisked them together.

  “Fish is good,” Sam said. He still wasn’t showing much enthusiasm, but he would change his tune when he tasted the fish. I was also working on a recipe for hushpuppies. Cade would drool over them when I made them for him.

  I heard a heavy sigh from behind me and I didn’t even need to turn around to see who it was. Georgia Johnson had arrived.

  “What do you want, Georgia?” I asked without looking at her. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out some fresh chives and two garlic cloves and took them back to where I was working.

  “Why are you always back here when you should be out front? Working?” she growled. Georgia and I had a history, and it wasn’t a good one. She didn’t like me for some reason, not that I understood what that reason was. She was keeping it a secret, even from me.

  “Because business is slow. There’s only one customer out there, unless some just walked in.” I pulled out a cutting board and began finely chopping the chives.

  “That’s just it. You’ll never know because you’re back here instead of up front waiting on customers,” she said. “You’ve probably forgotten that that’s your job, so let me remind you—that’s your job.”

  I glanced at her. She had her bleached blond hair piled up on her head and her hands on her hips, waiting for me to respond. I decided to ignore her. I never got anywhere when I tried talking to her like an adult.

  “Georgia?” Sam said.

  “What?” she answered without taking her eyes off me.

  “Are there customers out there that Rainey needs to see to?”

  “No, but that’s not the point,” she huffed.

  “Rainey is busy cooking us some lunch. Why don’t you go out front and wait for customers, and she’ll make a tasty meal for us,” Sam said. He was being too kind. She didn’t appreciate that he was a good boss and anyone else would have told her where to get off.

  She sighed again.

  Let the drama begin.

  “I heard there was a dead body found in the lake,” she suddenly said, changing her tone.

  I glanced at her. The attitude was gone and now she seemed more relaxed. I nodded. “Yes, there was a body found out there.”

  “That’s too bad. I heard a person could die in a lake and not be found for years. If the lake water stays cold e
nough, the body can be perfectly preserved, even after twenty years. Unless, of course, the fish snack on it,” she said and then chuckled.

  “I don’t know about that. Twenty years seems like a long time,” I said, wishing she would just go and tend to the one customer we had.

  “When I was in fifth grade, Yvonne Ellis’s dad disappeared in the lake. They never found him. Everyone would ask her if her dad was sleeping with the fishes. It was a riot.”

  I had forgotten about that. It had been rumored that Yvonne’s dad actually had a girlfriend that he ran off with. Georgia was ten years younger than I was, and my mother had told me the news after I had moved to New York.