A Real Pickle

by Jessica Beck

  “I thought you might. She’s quite lovely, isn’t she?” I asked him.

  “I meant…yes, of course…as an accountant.”

  Moose laughed as he patted Jeffrey’s shoulder. “We know exactly what you mean. There’s a girl in the kitchen named Margo who seems to want to talk to us, but Cassidy wasn’t all that accommodating.”

  “He wouldn’t be,” Jeffrey said. “Did he try to chase you out with a meat cleaver?”

  “At first, but my grandfather disarmed him,” I said.

  “Literally, or figuratively?” Jeffrey asked with a smile.

  “Figuratively,” I said.

  “I could have taken it away from him if I’d wanted to,” Moose said. Though he was in his seventies, my grandfather still had the mistaken impression that he was eighteen years old. Then again, so did my husband, Greg, though he was equally mistaken.

  “Sure you could have,” I said, and then I turned back to Jeffrey. “How do we get her alone so that we can talk to her?”

  Jeffrey looked at his watch. “If you hurry, you should be able to catch Margo in the back parking area. She drives a Toyota Yaris, a red one.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “How exactly do we get there?” Moose asked.

  “Go down this hall, take the second door from the end, and exit that way. It’s a great shortcut.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” Moose said.

  “I’d better get in there,” Jeffrey said. “I don’t want to miss any of the fireworks.”

  “Do you think that there will be any?” I asked.

  “I’ll be disappointed in your accountant if there aren’t.”

  “She’s yours now,” Moose said. “Accountant, I mean,” he added with a grin.

  Jeffrey didn’t comment on that, but I could see his cheeks redden a little. It appeared that he was smitten with Renee, and who could blame him?

  “Let’s go,” Moose said after Jeffrey was gone. “We need to catch Margo before she gets away.”

  “I didn’t know that she was running,” I said.

  “You know what I mean,” Moose answered.

  “I do, indeed,” I said.

  She wasn’t gone, though it was clear that she’d been dismissed before we arrived in the parking lot for the help. Margo, a tall curvy brunette with big brown eyes, was waiting for someone as she leaned against her car. I had to wonder if it was us, or perhaps a young man on staff as well.

  “You’re Margo, right?” I asked as Moose and I approached.

  She quit leaning and took a step toward us. “That’s right. May I help you with something, ma’am?”

  “Are you off the clock?” I asked her.

  “I am, but if I can be of assistance, I’d be glad to help.”

  “You can start by calling me Victoria. He’s Moose. I’m pleased to meet you. I’m a server too, though I only work at a diner.” I wanted her to trust me, but there was more to it than that. I knew what it was like to be invisible to people, and I was pretty certain that Margo didn’t like the feeling any more than I did. Some folks just refused to see those helping them.

  “Nice to meet you. I’ve been to The Charming Moose, but I’m sure you don’t remember me.”

  “I’m sorry, but we get a lot of customers in the course of a day.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Margo said. “Besides, I was a blonde back then.”

  “I can’t even picture it,” Moose said. “You’re a perfect brunette.”

  “It was a phase I was going through,” she said. “I went back to this after six months.”

  “Margo, I noticed that you looked as though you wanted to say something in the kitchen a little bit ago. Was I right?” I asked her.

  She shrugged and shuffled her feet a little. “I should keep my mouth shut; I know that.”

  “If you’re worried about us telling anyone, you don’t have to,” Moose said with a gentle grin. He was everyone’s grandfather at that moment, calm and safe and nurturing. I had no idea how he’d done it, but he had worked his magic just the same.

  “I trust you both,” she said, “though I don’t have any solid reason for it. You seem so genuine. Maybe it’s because I’ve been around so many imitations of people lately that it’s refreshing to find people who are sincere.”

  “I’ve always said that once you learn how to fake sincerity, everything else is downhill from there,” I said with a grin.

  She laughed with me. “I know better. Still, I would hate for anyone to find out that I was speaking with the two of you.”

  “We could meet somewhere else if that would make you more comfortable,” I said. “I’m not sure where, though, since we’re tied down here for the next few days, but we can make it happen.”

  “I’m being silly,” she said. “We can talk right here. I don’t have long, though. My boyfriend is waiting for me.”

  “If he has any sense at all, he’ll wait all night,” Moose said. Coming from another older man it could have easily been construed as being a bit creepy, but my grandfather spoke with such open admiration that it was easy for Margo to take the compliment for what it was.

  “He does, and he will,” Margo said with a smile. It faded quickly as she added, “It’s about Charlotte and Jeffrey, actually. I overheard something a few days ago that still disturbs me, especially given what happened to Mr. Trane.”

  “You didn’t call him Curtis?” Moose asked.

  “Never. He enjoyed my respect for the very reason that he never demanded it. I can’t say that for any of the rest of them, including her.”

  “What were they fighting about?” I asked. “Jeffrey doesn’t seem the type to argue with his employer’s sister.”

  “No, you misunderstood me. There were two different incidents, one with Charlotte, and the other one with Jeffrey.”

  “Let’s take Charlotte first,” Moose said. “What did you overhear?”

  “Evidently Mr. Trane had decided that he’d had enough, and he was changing his will and leaving North Carolina. He has land in Canada, so he was going up there to spend the time he had left in peace and quiet.”

  “And she didn’t want him to go?” I asked.

  “If he’d signed his money over to her, I don’t think she would have cared if he’d gone to the moon,” Margo said. “He wasn’t going to do that, though.”

  “Where was his money going?” Moose asked.

  “You’ll have to ask his attorneys about that. All I know is they were both really angry with each other. It made me concerned for Mr. Trane’s health, so I made an excuse to go in so they’d stop. Charlotte was furious with me, and she tried to fire me on the spot. Mr. Trane wouldn’t hear of it, but I’ve got a feeling I won’t be here long now that she’s running things.”

  “I understood that Jeffrey was in charge of the estate,” Moose said.

  “He is, at least for the next few days. After that, I’m sure that I’ll be let go. That’s why I’m not all that worried talking to you two right now.”

  “What were you going to say about Jeffrey?” I asked. “Do you two have a problem?” He hadn’t shown any particular interest or animosity in Margo when we’d spoken about her earlier.

  “No, as far as he knows, we’re fine.”

  “But not as far as you’re concerned?” I asked softly.

  “I hate thinking about it, but I’m worried that he might have had something to do with what happened to Mr. Trane.”

  I couldn’t believe that anyone would suspect Jeffrey of murdering his boss. “What makes you say that, Margo?”

  “Jeffrey owes a bad man money that he can’t pay, or at least he couldn’t until he became Mr. Trane’s executor. There’s a rumor among the staff that he’ll be getting a huge payoff for doing the job, more than enough to pay off his debts.”

  “I can’t believe that,” I said. “What about you, Moose?”

  “I’ve seen it happen to better men than him,” my grandfather admitted.

  “That’s
not all, though,” Margo said. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “He was already at the diner when it happened. Couldn’t he have put on a jacket with a hood, slipped inside the diner and killed Mr. Trane, and still make it back out to the car before you knew what happened? I know it’s probably just my overactive imagination, but I love mystery shows on television, and more times than not I solve the case before the detectives do. Jeffrey had money for the motive, the means anyone could pick up, and the opportunity of being right there. How can anyone not consider him a suspect?”

  Blast it, she made some excellent points. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Jeffrey had to be a suspect, but to be fair, I hadn’t known about his debts, either. Would he really kill Curtis Trane to pay them off, though? “Why didn’t he just ask Mr. Trane for the money?” I asked her. “That would have been a great deal easier than killing him.”

  “Mr. Trane hated gambling,” she said. “He never would have loaned him a dime for that, and I’m certain that Jeffrey knew that as well. It’s going to keep me awake tonight, I can tell you that.”

  “Thanks for sharing it with us,” I said.

  “And you won’t tell anyone what I said?” Margo asked.

  “Not a soul,” Moose said. “You can trust us.”

  She breathed out a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks for that.” Margo glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. There’s no reason to keep Kevin waiting any longer than I have to. Why risk it, right?”

  After Margo drove off, I turned to Moose and asked, “Did you think about Jeffrey being a suspect?”

  “I hate to admit it, but I didn’t,” my grandfather said. “Margo made a lot of sense just then though, didn’t she?”

  “More than I like. We need to do a little digging into Jeffrey’s life.”

  “Great,” Moose said. “Is there anyone here that we can trust?”

  “You, me, and Renee,” I said.

  “That leaves a great many folks still on the hook, doesn’t it?” my grandfather asked as we slowly walked back toward the house.

  “Then we’d better get busy, hadn’t we?”

  Chapter 9

  “May I help you?” Humphries asked as my grandfather and I walked back inside the mansion.

  “No, we’re doing just fine,” Moose said.

  “I was just wondering what you might have been looking for outside.”

  Had he been watching us? I wasn’t about to tell him that we’d been talking to Margo, one of the place’s employees. “It was a nice evening, so my grandfather and I decided to take a walk,” I said. As I did, a clap of lightning hit close by, followed quickly by a loud boom of thunder.

  “Before the storm hit,” Moose added with a grin.

  The rain came suddenly, with real purpose, pounding down with ferocity.

  “It appears that you got back just in time,” Humphries said.

  There was another slap of lightning, and the lights all died instantly inside the mansion.

  “Give it a moment,” Humphries said, his voice calm despite the fact that we’d all been plunged into darkness. “This happens quite often in a storm. Nine times out of ten, the lights are back on within five seconds.”

  I counted to five under my breath, and then I said, “Looks like this is that tenth time. Do you have any flashlights in this place?”

  “Mr. Trane preferred candles,” Humphries said as he pulled out a lighter and struck it. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you both set up with candles.”

  I reached out and took my grandfather’s hand. “This isn’t too creepy, is it?” I asked him softly.

  “If I hear somebody scream, I’m screaming, too,” he answered. I couldn’t see his smile, but I could hear it in his voice.

  Humphries walked over to a sideboard and opened one of the drawers. After pulling out a single candle, he lit it with his lighter, and then closed the drawer back up. The candle gave off a soft glowing light in the darkness, and while I couldn’t read by it, it was certainly bright enough to see by. I’d noticed a few candles in their stands earlier, but I’d thought of them more as props than actual tools folks used to get around the house. Humphries lit two single candles, each with its own holder, and handled one to Moose and the other to me. “Try not let them go out,” Humphries said.

  “We’ll do our best,” Moose said as he cupped his hand around the front of the flame. “Shouldn’t somebody be looking for a circuit breaker?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Humphries said. “The power company claims that the problem is within the home, but Mr. Trane always believed otherwise.”

  “The lights are out,” Cassidy, the chef, called out as he came out of the kitchen holding a grand candle stand with four lit candles mounted in it.

  “We noticed,” Moose said.

  “I’m not working in the dark,” the chef said as he walked past us. “We’ll finish cleaning up in the morning. I told my staff that they could leave, and I’m going to my quarters.”

  “That’s not acceptable,” Humphries said. “The evening’s tasks must be completed first.”

  Cassidy wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, whether due to recent events or the fact that we were all living by candlelight at the moment. “If you want to wash all of those dishes by hand, you’re welcome to it. No power means that the dishwasher is down. Besides, I wasn’t asking you for permission, I was telling you what I was doing as a courtesy. If you don’t like it, have someone fire me if you can figure out who has that kind of power around here these days. Otherwise, I’d advise you to stay out of my way.”

  Humphries didn’t comment, and as Cassidy started to walk away, I heard him say clearly, “That’s what I thought,” before he left.

  “My apologies,” Humphries said to us after the chef was gone.

  “There’s no need to apologize,” I said. “I take it that he used to be under you?”

  “As the head butler, yes, I’m in charge of the house, but with Mr. Trane’s unfortunate demise, that’s all open to interpretation now.” He paused, and then the butler added, “Cassidy and I have been clashing for years. His open mutiny really doesn’t come as a surprise to me.”

  A moment later, the rest of the kitchen staff left as well. There were no words exchanged, but I noticed that a few of the employees wouldn’t make contact with the head butler on their way out.

  There was no time, or need, to comment on it though, as Jeffrey, Renee, and Crane joined us. Evidently one of the men had been prepared for the power outage, because they were all carrying lit candles of their own.

  “That’s some storm raging out there,” Jeffrey said as another flash of lightning illuminated the interior, blinding me for a few moments before it vanished. The crack of thunder that followed made talking impossible. That was a close one. If there had been any chance of getting power back before, that strike might have eliminated it altogether.

  “I’d better go home while I still can,” Renee said.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay the night with us,” Jeffrey said. “There’s plenty of room, and this weather isn’t fit to drive in.”

  “Thanks, but I have a Land Rover with me. I’ve been kind of wanting to drive it in a big storm, so here’s my chance.” Her grin was unmistakable. “I don’t think we’ll get any more work done tonight, anyway. I’ll see you all bright and early in the morning.”

  As she started to go, Jeffrey said, “I’ll at least walk you to your car.”

  As they walked away, their candles bobbing in the darkness, I glanced at Crane and saw a look of disgust on his face.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked him.

  “What?” He looked surprised to be caught, because the business manager quickly buried his scowl. “No. I just hate storms, that’s all. I’m going to do what Tristan and Sarah decided to do and call it a night. Humphries, show them to their rooms.”

  M
aybe Crane just resented Jeffrey taking charge and he wanted to order someone around himself, but I wasn’t ready for bed yet, and I knew that my grandfather wasn’t, either. “We’re going to stay down here for now.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, and then he walked down the hall toward the grand staircase.

  “Is he always so pleasant?” I asked Humphries.

  “The man just lost his best friend today,” the butler said, surprising me with his empathy. “I’m inclined to cut him a little slack. Plus, it can’t be easy for him knowing that Mr. Trane trusted his chauffeur more than him to be the estate’s executor.”

  I hadn’t had time to think about it, but that was odd. “Why do you think he did it?” I asked him.

  “Over the past few months, Mr. Trane trusted Jeffrey with more and more things. He considered him a disinterested party, I think.”

  “Is he, though?” Moose asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, he’s going to be getting a pretty hefty fee for this job,” Moose explained.

  “I suppose so,” Humphries said. There was no judgment in his voice, but I could see that the thought intrigued him as much as it had Margo. “Do you need help getting to your rooms?”

  “No, I think we’ll hang around and wait on Jeffrey,” Moose said, and then he turned to me. “Does that suit you, Victoria?”

  “I’m on board,” I said.

  “That was one of Mr. Trane’s favorite expressions,” Humphries said with a soft smile. “He loved any wordplay that involved trains.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” I asked. “You miss him too, don’t you?”

  “He gave me a second chance when no one else would,” Humphries said softly. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “A second chance? At what?” Moose asked him.

  “At everything,” Humphries said cryptically.

  Before I could ask him what he meant, Jeffrey came back, wet and grinning broadly. “She wasn’t kidding. That thing looked like it could climb a tree.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make my evening rounds,” Humphries said, and then he was gone before any of us even had a chance to comment.