Much Ado About Murder (Double Barrel Mysteries)

by Barbara E Brink

  Anger and pity filled Pete’s eyes. “That’s horrible. I don’t know her personally, but I’ve seen her around town. It’s sometimes unbelievable how cruel people can be to one another, especially to someone who’s a little different.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “We were hoping you’d go over and install a deadbolt on her front door and check the rest of the house for security flaws. I already called Tucker at the store and told him to have whatever you need delivered to Fanny’s house. He has a young kid working for him part-time so it shouldn’t be a problem. Just call him with your list.” Blake shrugged. “I’d do it myself but you’re much more of an expert at these things, and Shelby and I have a prior appointment.”

  “A break in the case I hope.”

  “We think so.”

  Pete gave a nod and adjusted his tool belt. “No problem. Glad I can help. I’ll just give these young fellows a little parting instruction and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Appreciate it, Pete.”

  “I don’t know what Tucker has on hand, but would you be willing to pay for a camera setup? You could have it connected to your phone or computer and catch those devils red-handed. I’m no expert on electronic gadgets but I can ask the guys if they know how it’s done.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Pete.”

  He gave a quick salute and hurried back to his crew.

  “I don’t know how Fanny will take to the idea of a security camera, but if it helps catch Madeline’s killer…” Shelby’s words trailed off as she stared up toward the house.

  He turned and followed her gaze. The front end of a silver car was visible in the driveway. “Who’s that?”

  “I don’t know. We better get up there. Alice took Oliver to his doctor appointment this morning. We don’t want to miss a paying drop-by guest because no one was there to answer the door.”

  <<>>

  “Heard you were looking for me.”

  The man waiting for them on the front steps of the B&B was not the same man Shelby remembered from the Café when she’d helped Luanne wait tables one busy Sunday afternoon a few months back. He’d been with Heath that day and Heath’s handsome good looks and boisterous, in-your-face personality had sort of made Bart fade into the background. He wasn’t bad looking, just not memorable.

  Since that time he’d turned into a young Brad Pitt. Shoulder-length dark blonde hair was swept back in a stylishly messy tumble and a trim goatee adorned his face. His eyes were an unusual shade between green and blue, and she realized he was wearing aquamarine contact lenses. In dark slacks and a camel colored leather jacket, he fit the image of a young upstanding professional. His ex-con past had all but disappeared.

  Blake offered his hand but Bart shrugged, hands remaining in the pockets of his coat. “Sorry. I have a bit of a germ phobia.”

  “No problem. Thanks for coming by. We were just on our way to Linder Construction to speak with you. Do you have time to come inside and answer a few questions now?”

  “Of course. That is what I’m here for.”

  They settled in the living room, taking the club chairs arranged around a coffee table in the corner near the bookshelves. Shelby offered him something to drink but he shook his head, letting his eyes linger on her longer than felt comfortable.

  Blake absolutely noticed the attention. His mouth pulled into a grim line and his eyes narrowed as though assessing the threat. He splayed his fingers on the arms of the chair. “I suppose Heath informed you of our visit.”

  “He mentioned you were looking for Dalton and that you thought I would know his whereabouts.”

  “Don’t you?”

  He regarded Blake with an almost imperceptible quirk of his lips. “Funny thing. I don’t actually keep track of all my uncle’s employees. He hires many temporary workers. Some of them are ex-cons like Dalton and myself. What can I say? The man has a big heart. He even promoted me. I’m now the accountant for Linder Construction.”

  “Congratulations,” Blake said with less enthusiasm than he exhibited when Shelby told him she’d purchased tickets for a theatre production of Macbeth on their first anniversary.

  “Prison was an eye-opener for me. I can’t say I enjoyed my time behind bars, but I spent it wisely. Finished my accounting degree and took a few law classes on the side.”

  “Did Heath use his time for self-improvement as well?” Blake asked.

  “Afraid not. Heath, as you probably know, has never been a big advocate of formal education. He likes to say he’s enrolled in the university of life.”

  “If life had rules, he’d be kicked out for a below average GPA.”

  Bart smirked, and locked eyes with Shelby when he asked, “What exactly can I do for you, Mr. Gunner?”

  Shelby decided to jump into the conversation when Blake hesitated. They no longer needed to know where Dalton Guthrie was, but Bart didn’t need to know that. She crossed her legs and leaned forward eagerly, hands clasped on her knee. “Mr. Linder, I find it fascinating how you’ve turned your life around. Statistics show that a very small percentage of the incarcerated are able to truly integrate back into society in a productive way after their release.”

  “Please, call me Bart,” he said, giving her a full mega-watt smile. He lifted his hands in a shrug. “Unlike many of my fellow inmates, I had a lot of help. My family and friends were very supportive. When I was released they soon realized that my prison stay had been more than rehabilitation, it had been a spiritual reimagining. I was free to be the best person I could be. The power was within me the entire time. I just didn’t know it.”

  Blake mumbled, “What a crock.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Shelby leaned even closer, lowering her voice. “What a block. It’s private investigator lingo for a solid piece of information.”

  “O-kay,” he said slowly, sounding completely unconvinced.

  She cleared her throat. “How well do you know Dalton Guthrie?”

  “Not well at all. Heath is the one who shared a cell with the man. When Guthrie was released, Heath asked me if I’d put a good word in with my uncle to help him get a job. So I did.”

  Blake rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “You owed Heath a favor and Heath owed Guthrie a favor. Is that about right?”

  “I guess so.” His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Strange, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The person to whom Guthrie owed a favor turned up dead.”

  “You think Guthrie killed Sadie Dugan?”

  Bart hesitated, looking down at the tabletop. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know him that well. I certainly hope not. But not everyone is able to harness their spiritual power. Sometimes that power is directed outward in violence.”

  Shelby could practically hear Blake’s teeth grind with the tightening of his jaw muscles. She knew what he was thinking. Bart was playing them. She thought so too, but maybe they could use him anyway.

  She twisted the wedding ring on her finger. “I hear where you’re coming from. Guthrie obviously did not learn to control his negative tendencies as you did. In fact, we believe he broke into our home the other night.”

  “No kidding. What in the world for?”

  “He was looking for something he thought we had. Luckily, we’d already turned it over to the police. It may be the one piece of evidence that will put him away for good.”

  “For…”

  “For murder of course.”

  “Really. What was he looking for?”

  Outwardly he appeared calm, but she could see worry throbbing in his temple. His blood pressure soared with the news. He probably thought his little petty theft ring was about to blow up in his face. If his uncle discovered he’d been using ex-cons in their employ to steal for him while they were on remodeling jobs, there would definitely be some spiritual violence raining down on him.

  Blake got to his feet, putting an end
to the interview. “We appreciate you coming by, Mr. Linder. Thank you for your time.”

  At the door, Shelby automatically held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Bart.”

  He took her hand between both of his and squeezed lightly, smiling into her eyes. “Thank you, Shelby. I’m sure we’ll meet again. Port Scuttlebutt is a small community, after all.”

  Blake shut the door, shaking his head. “Sometimes much too small.”

  “I guess his germ phobia only extends to men.”

  “Or ex-cops.”

  She hurried to a window and pulled aside the curtain to watch the silver car back up and turn around. Bart Linder spied her and lifted a hand in a wave. She dropped the curtain and turned.

  Blake asked, “What’s going through your mind?”

  “I find it strange that an accountant’s hands have so many scratches on them. I didn’t know number crunching could be so dangerous.”

  “Paper cuts?”

  “On the backs of his hands?”

  “Maybe he has a cat.”

  “Maybe.”

  <<>>

  When Alice and Oliver got back from Ashland they both looked cranky and tired. Shelby pulled open the front door and helped Oliver navigate his walker through the doorway and toward his room. Alice followed, setting her purse on the kitchen counter.

  At the door of his bedroom, he shook off her hand. “I’m fine. Go coddle your husband or something.” He shut the door in her face.

  “See what I’ve put up with all morning?” Alice said, opening the refrigerator and getting a can of cola. She popped the top and poured it into a tall glass, letting the fizz settle before taking a long drink.

  Shelby leaned beside her at the sink. “What did the doctor say?”

  “His cholesterol is too high and his blood pressure fluctuates between high and higher.”

  “So basically the same as last time.”

  She released a grunt that sounded like a cross between mirth and frustration. “Except now they say he’s borderline diabetic as well.”

  “The new diet plan’s not working, huh?”

  “The doctor practically accused me of sabotaging his health. He seemed to think I was in charge around here and that I should be able to monitor my father’s intake.” She flipped her hair back with one hand. “As if. Dad’s been sneaking food again. I don’t even know where he’s getting it. I found a package of Oreos in his dresser drawer a few days ago. I didn’t buy them.”

  “Don’t look at me.” Shelby put up her hands.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think Tucker would be stupid enough to…”

  “Never. No amount of bribery would get him to cross you. He wants to stay on your good side. And bad side,” she added with a grin.

  Alice glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which… I have a date to get ready for.”

  “Really. Tucker already got over Sunday’s fiasco?”

  “I don’t know. Haven’t spoken with him today. Actually, I’m meeting an old friend from high school. I stopped for gas at Lenny’s station on my way home and there he was filling his car on the other side of the pumps. I haven’t seen him in forever.” A touch of pink colored her cheeks and the briefest of smiles flitted over her lips like a butterfly and was gone. “It’s not a real date of course. We’re just catching up.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Seriously. He doesn’t even live around here… I don’t think. We’re just having coffee. And maybe pie. I remember he really loved Luanne’s chocolate pie.” She absently twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

  Shelby was beginning to get worried. Old boyfriends were like kryptonite to a new relationship. They could destroy tentative feelings and connections of new love with a glance or a simple kind word. How dare he show up now? “So you dated this guy in high school?”

  “Not exactly. We hung out from time to time. Usually when he was between girlfriends.” She rightly appeared embarrassed by the admission. “But he’s really nice.”

  “I’m sure he is.” She’d known guys like him. They were the guys who love the one they’re with and then when someone they deem hotter comes along, they move on, leaving another broken heart in their wake. “Have you told Tucker?”

  “I haven’t had a chance. I just got home. And it’s not like a real date or anything.”

  “Right. Just coffee and maybe pie.” Shelby gave her friend’s arm a light squeeze and walked away.

  Alice called after her. “What does that mean? It’s not like we have a verbal agreement not to see other people.”

  “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she quoted softly, climbing the stairs. Perhaps she needed a backup plan. After all, that’s what friends were for. When Blake left to meet Pete at Fanny Arnold’s house and check things out, she might just head to town herself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The electronic bell sounded over the door when she entered the Ben Franklin store. Nobody was stationed at the front register, but she heard Tucker’s voice toward the back of the store. It rose over the country song playing on the radio. He sounded like he was nearing the end of his rope. Not wanting to interrupt, she headed to the candy aisle and picked up a large package of Tootsie Rolls. She moved to the head of the next aisle and pretended to be absorbed in choosing a birthday card.

  The bell rang again and she looked up. A teenage boy pushed through the door, glanced around and absently ran a hand over his spiked hair as though making sure his hair gel was still stylin’. It was obvious from his khaki pants and polo shirt with the store logo on the pocket he was Tucker’s new employee. Noticing Shelby in the card aisle, he smiled and dipped his chin.

  “Hey. Have you seen Mr. Thompson?”

  She pointed toward the back.

  Before the boy could search him out, Tucker strode to the front of the store, cell phone pressed to his ear. “Okay. Sure. I’ll let him know. Right. Bye.” He bent over the checkout counter with his head in his hands and groaned.

  “Mr. Thompson?”

  His head came up. “Aiden. Sorry. Didn’t see you come in.”

  “Mr. Dugan asked if you had any window latches.”

  “Window latches.” He scratched his chin. “Umm, why don’t you check the hardware aisle.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Shelby slipped the card she was holding back into the rack. Her movements caught Tucker’s attention. His gaze narrowed when he saw her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She shrugged and lifted the candy. “Can’t a girl shop without getting the third degree?”

  “Did Blake send you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because Tootsie Rolls is his thing.”

  She moved beside him and placed the candy on the counter. “Then I guess this is me being the perfect wife.”

  He stepped behind the register and rang up her purchase.

  “Are you all right, Tuck?” she asked, handing him a five-dollar bill. “You sounded sort of frantic on the phone.

  “Ah, you heard that, huh?”

  “Not your conversation. Just your tone.”

  “My Dad again. He knows how to push all my buttons.”

  She gave him a crooked smile. “Hey. Why don’t you let me take you to Luanne’s for some pie? My treat.”

  Aiden stepped out of the hardware aisle and lifted empty hands. “I can’t find any, Mr. Thompson. What do you want me to do?”

  Tucker stared blankly at the kid for long seconds, then moved out from behind the register. He slipped his cell phone into his pocket. “I want you to hold down the fort for a little while. I’m going to Luanne’s with Mrs. Gunner.”

  “What about the locks?”

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Dugan. We’ll have to order them.”

  Outside they passed an elderly couple going into the drugstore. Tucker had to stop and chat for a minute. Ten minutes and four conversations with random people later, they finally walked the block to Luanne’s.

  �
�You seem very popular today,” Shelby pointed out, taking his arm.

  Tucker slanted her a grin. “I put snow shovels on sale for 50 percent off yesterday.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Haven’t you ever had your car washed and it rained the next day?”

  “Yeah. That’s sort of a given.”

  “Exactly. I put snow shovels on sale. Today it’s fifty degrees.”

  “So you’re popular because they think you gave them a reprieve from winter?”

  Pulling the door open to the café, he leaned close and whispered. “I may have listened to the extended forecast earlier in the week and played the long shot, but they don’t have to know that.”

  Luanne was waiting on a booth, her back to them. Shelby could see a familiar redhead sticking up over the edge of the booth back, but the man across from Alice was hidden from view behind Luanne’s tray.

  Tucker didn’t seem to notice. He indicated the booth closest to the window and they sat. Elbows propped on the table, he yawned widely and rubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night. My dad keeps calling and hounding me about Pete’s case as though he has a vested interest.”

  “Well, they are friends, right?”

  “Maybe. After Oliver’s remark the other day I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “Hey,” she reached out and touched his arm. “Oliver is pulling your chain. He’s been extra cranky lately. I think he enjoys seeing others just as unhappy. It makes him feel better.”

  “You’re probably right.” He released a sigh and twisted around to read Luanne’s chalkboard up on the wall behind the register. “The pie of the day is...”

  “Banana cream.” Luanne stepped in his line of sight, her dark hair piled atop her head and held there with a giant clip. A few stray wisps of white slipped out around her face. She squinted at them; her ever present but rarely used reading glasses perched on the top of her head. “I wondered who snuck in here when my back was turned.”

  “We didn’t exactly sneak,” Tucker said. “We came in bold as brass. We’re not ashamed to admit we’re addicted to your pie.”