by Jessica Beck
“Anyway, now you know why I didn’t want to tell anybody.”
“Hang on a second,” I said. “Are you telling me that you refused to tell the police where you were because you were afraid they might make fun of you? Do you understand how crazy that sounds on the face of it?”
“Hey, my reputation around here is about all I have these days.”
“It’s safe with us,” I reassured him, “but you’ve got to tell Chief Martin.”
“You mean right now?” he asked.
“It’s as good a time as any. The sooner you can prove where you were, the quicker your name will go off his list.”
“I don’t know,” Murphy said. “I’m not sure that I can bring myself to do it.”
I was about to scold him when Grace asked, “Would you like me to go with you?”
“Would you?” he asked as he looked at her with hope in his gaze.
“Why not? On the way over, you can tell me all about that class. It sounds like fun.” She turned to me and asked, “Would you like to come, too, Suzanne?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I? You drove us here, remember?”
She retrieved her keys from her purse and handed them to me. “Don’t worry about it. You can take my car. I’ll catch a ride with Murphy and pick it up at your place later.”
“That’s a company car, Grace. Don’t you think they might get a little miffed if something happened to it while I was driving instead of you?”
“First of all, nothing’s going to happen, and even if it does, you’re on my insurance plan for it.”
“How did that happen?” It was certainly news to me.
“Everyone else was putting their spouses’ names down, and I didn’t want to leave it blank, so I covered you, too.”
“That’s the sweetest and the oddest thing I’ve heard in years,” I said.
“Let’s not get choked up about it,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good-bye,” I said, and Grace left with Murphy to head back to town so they could go to the police department. I started having second thoughts in a big way the second they pulled out of the parking lot. What if Murphy was lying to us? What if he wasn’t taking dance lessons, tap or otherwise? Had it been a ploy to trap Grace, or was he just going to take advantage of the situation? I grabbed my phone as I got into Grace’s car.
I could see Murphy’s taillights in the dark, but they were fading fast.
“I’m right behind you,” I said as I took off, flashing my lights as I sped to keep up with them.
“Suzanne, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t, but I want to. Tell Murphy to ease up on the gas, would you? He’s not trying to lose me, is he?”
I heard her ask him to slow down, and for a heart-stopping moment, I thought he was speeding up, but he backed off the gas and soon I was just behind them.
“Tell her you’re safe with me,” I heard Murphy say to Grace.
At the moment, I wasn’t in any mood to believe him. “It’s not that. I just want to be sure nothing happens to your car,” I told Grace.
“She’s worried about my company car,” Grace told him, and in the headlights I could see Murphy nodding his head.
“She probably should be. I’m guessing the deductible on that car is more than her entire Jeep is worth. She’d better be careful.”
I’d used it as an excuse, but now I found myself worrying about the vehicle. Why did he have to put that thought in my head? Was it payback for me following them?
“I am,” I said.
“Suzanne, my cell phone battery is getting low, so I’m signing off. We’ll see you back in town.”
I couldn’t exactly make her stay on the line, but I wasn’t about to let them get away, either. Murphy suddenly sped up, and I felt my heart leap into my throat, but he tapped the brakes as he eased off the gas and I realized that he was just having a bit of fun with me.
Some fun.
By the time we got back into town and parked in front of the police station, I was a nervous wreck. When I got out, I saw that Grace and Murphy were laughing about something. All I had to say was that it had better not be me.
“Here are your keys,” I said as I handed them to Grace.
“Don’t you want to drive it home?”
“Thanks anyway, but it’s a nice night. I think I’ll walk.”
I started to go when Grace called out, “Suzanne, hang on a second.”
I waited for her, and as she approached, she said, “Listen, I told him that it wasn’t funny, but he was kind of giddy having me in the car with him. I think he was trying to impress me.”
“And did he?” I asked. “Grace, he’s not exactly your type, and that’s not even taking into account the fact that he’s still a murder suspect until Chief Martin clears him. Maybe you’d better wait a while until you get too involved with him.”
“We’re not going out or anything,” Grace said. “I just thought that it was important that he talk to Chief Martin, so I did the only thing I could to make sure of it. That’s all there is to it.”
“Hey, it’s fine with me either way. Just wait until he’s cleared first.”
“You’ve always looked out for me, Suzanne,” she said.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for.” I looked over her shoulder and saw Officer Grant talking to Murphy.
“Now I feel better,” I said.
“What, because we’re going to have a police escort into the building?” Grace asked with a smile.
“That’s exactly right. I don’t care how silly it sounds. I’m still having a hard time believing that Murphy is innocent.”
“The chief will clear it up soon enough. Now go on. I can handle this.”
“Okay,” I said. “Call me when you get home, though, okay?”
“Yes, Mother,” she said with a laugh.
“You could do worse,” I said as I waved to Officer Grant and took off on foot back to the cottage. I decided at the last second to cut through the park, and as I did, I couldn’t help but glance at the spot where James had been murdered. It really had taken the nerves of a cat burglar to kill him out there in the open. How had the murderer managed it? What act had allowed them to approach James and get close enough to stab him in the heart? I was still wondering about it when I walked past the Patriot’s Tree and up the steps to the cottage that Momma and I shared.
“Wow, that smells wonderful,” I said as I walked in the front door. Even though I’d recently eaten at Anne Pinerush’s place, I found that I was a little hungry again. It looked as though this was going to be one of those banner days when I managed to get four meals instead of the standard three.
Momma turned and looked pleased to see me as I walked into the kitchen. “Suzanne, your timing is perfect.” She looked past me as she asked, “Is Grace with you?”
“No, she’s at the police station,” I said, without realizing how it must have sounded to my mother.
“How on earth did she manage to get arrested and you got away scot-free?”
I had to laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Momma. My guilt was never in question, was it?”
“Let’s face it, Suzanne; you’re usually the instigator. Is that why you came home? If you need bail money, I’ve got a stash here just for that reason.”
As often as she’d told the joke, I still had to wonder if it might be true. My mother was a spirited woman, and I liked to think that I got some of that from her.
“No, she went in with Murphy Armstrong to give him some moral support.”
“Murphy killed James?” my mother asked, clearly shocked by the idea.
“No, as a matter of fact, it looks as though he’s in the clear. He didn’t want to give Chief Martin his alibi, though, so Grace decided to go along just to make sure that he did. Murphy’s had a crush on her since she dated his older brother back in high school, and I swear that man would do just about anything he thought might please her.”
&nbs
p; “Why did he not want to give Phillip his alibi?” Momma asked.
I wasn’t sure what kind of confidentiality Murphy had a right to expect from Chief Martin, but I had a feeling that Momma would know soon enough. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone else. Agreed?”
“That’s fine with me,” she answered quickly.
“He was taking tap lessons,” I said with a smile.
“That big man dancing around nimbly in tap shoes?” Momma asked.
“That’s what he claims.”
“Well, then, it’s most likely to be true, isn’t it?”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“No man that big would ever admit to taking tap-dance lessons unless he was a suspect in a murder case, now would he?”
“Probably not. Anyway, it will be easy enough to verify. I have a feeling that it’s true, too. That means that Grace and I have to strike Murphy’s name from our list.”
“Why don’t we talk more about this while we’re eating?” Momma suggested.
“I didn’t think I was supposed to discuss my investigations at the dinner table,” I said as I followed my mother into the kitchen.
“I’ll make an exception just this once,” Momma said.
She must have had a reason for the exception, but I wasn’t going to ask her what it was.
As we started putting food on our plates—chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and homemade sourdough bread—Momma asked, “How many suspects does that leave on your list?”
“What makes you think we have a list?” I asked.
“Suzanne, I know you well enough to realize that you’re too organized not to have one.”
“It’s true,” I admitted. “We still have Rebecca Link from April Springs, and from Pinerush there’s Anne Pinerush and her son, Forrest.”
“Is that all?” she asked.
“No, there’s also a mysterious male cousin somewhere in the background, but no one admits to knowing anything about him.”
Momma nodded as she took a bite, and I grabbed my own opportunity to eat some as well. It was wonderful, but it was missing something. “Do we have any cranberries left from before?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I just love canned cranberry jelly with this meal.”
“I knew that, but it completely slipped my mind. Let me check,” she said as she started to get up, but I rejected the idea and stood myself. “Sit and eat. I’ll look.”
Momma clearly wasn’t pleased with that solution, but I wasn’t going to back down. I didn’t do enough to keep our household running, so quite literally, it was the least that I could do. I found a can near the back of the fridge. I cut the jelly into inch-and-half servings and laid it out on a fancy plate.
As I came out of the kitchen, I set the plate down. “Isn’t it beautiful? It’s just something I whipped up,” I said with a smile.
“I’m sure it will be delightful,” Momma said. After she took some for herself, she asked, “How did our James manage to get himself involved with the Pinerushes?”
“Do you know them?” I asked. It wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if she did. Sometimes I felt as though my mother had more connections in North Carolina than Duke Power.
“I know of them,” she said.
“To be honest with you, I wasn’t all that sure about Anne the first time we met, but she was a different woman today.” I looked over to see Momma’s fork hovering an inch from her mouth. “Are you all right?”
“Am I to understand that you know Anne Pinerush personally?”
“I do,” I admitted. “As a matter of fact, Grace and I had an early dinner at the manor this afternoon.”
“We’ll get to why you were invited in a moment, but am I to understand that this is your second dinner today?”
“It was early, and I’m hungry again.”
She started to reach for my plate when I said, “Try to take that at your own risk.” I was grinning as I said it, and Momma smiled in return.
“Don’t feel as though you have to eat again on my account.”
I stuck out my hand toward her. “Hi, I’m your daughter, Suzanne. It’s nice to meet you. Have you ever known me to eat anything strictly out of a sense of obligation?”
She laughed at that. “Of course not. So, what was the manor like?”
I described the home, the grounds, and the meal to her, and if I didn’t know better, I would have said that my mother was a little starstruck. I hadn’t heard much about the Pinerushes at all before James’s connection with them, but since then, I knew way too much about them.
“Now for the most important question of all. How did you happen to meet her in the first place?”
“James Settle’s last name was really Pinerush,” I said. “It turns out that he was one of the heirs to the Pinerush fortune.”
Momma took that in, and then nodded. “I’m sure that adds a few suspects to your list. It has been my experience that people kill for one of two reasons: money or love. Rebecca covers the love aspect, and now money covers the rest. So, with James out of the way, am I correct in assuming that his share is divided up among the other two?”
“Three,” I said. “Don’t forget, there’s a cousin nobody talks about who is involved as well.”
“What’s his name? Is he another Pinerush?”
“I honestly don’t know anything else about him,” I admitted.
“So, he may or may not be a factor. Are there any other wild cards in the mix?”
“Why are you so curious about this all of a sudden?” I asked. “It’s not as though you’ve cared all that much about the murders I’ve investigated in the past.”
“Let’s just say that it involves both my daughter and my paramour and leave it at that. Why wouldn’t I be interested?”
“Don’t call him that,” I said. “It sounds creepy.”
“‘Boyfriend’ is even worse, though. I suppose I could call him something more intimate if you’d like,” I started to cringe when she finished, “perhaps Phillip?”
“Call him whatever you want to,” I said. “Just don’t call him anything in front of me.”
We finished eating, and as we were cleaning up, my cell rang. It was Grace, so I asked Momma, “Do you mind if I get it? It might be important.”
“Go on, take it in the living room,” she said.
“Don’t do all those dishes without me,” I said as I flipped open the phone and walked out of the room.
“How did it go, Grace?”
“Murphy is officially off the chief’s list of suspects.”
“He got confirmation of the class?”
“He did,” Grace said.
“Are you home now?” I asked her.
She hesitated, and then said, “Actually, I decided to go out for a while.”
“With Murphy?” I asked jokingly.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she answered mildly, as though she was expecting some kind of reaction from me.
“Have fun, then, and don’t stay out too late,” I said.
“What? No cracks, comments, or laughter?” she asked.
“Hey, you’re a grown woman. If you think you can find happiness with a blacksmith, you shouldn’t deprive yourself of the chance.”
“It’s one drink, Suzanne,” she said. “It’s hardly a proposal.”
“You know what Momma used to tell us when we were teenagers,” I reminded Grace.
“Don’t date anyone you can’t see yourself marrying someday,” she quoted. “After all, who knows where that first date could lead?”
“Excellent. You get a gold star,” I said. “Seriously, have fun. Will you be by the shop tomorrow? You’re still off, right?”
“I’ll be there,” she said. “See you around eleven-fifteen.”
“Bye,” I said, and then rejoined Momma in the kitchen.
Of course the dishes were finished and drying in the rack by the sink by the time I got there.
“I thought you were
going to wait for me,” I said.
“You offered, I declined,” Momma said with a smile. “I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but I made a pie today, and it’s in the fridge right now.”
“Is it cherry?” I asked.
“Apple,” she replied.
“With a Dutch crumb topping?”
“Would I make it any other way with you here?” Momma asked with a grin.
“You know what? I could probably make room for a sliver,” I admitted.
“I’ll join you,” she said. We dished up two slices that were both considerably more than slivers, and then took them out into the living room.
As we ate, Momma said, “This is nice. I miss it sometimes.”
“What are you talking about? We have pie all of the time,” I said.
“I meant a quiet evening with just the two of us here,” she said. “What with Jake, Grace, and Phillip, there never seems to be enough time for just us.”
I touched her hand lightly as I said, “I know what you mean. We need to both make more of an effort to spend some time together. What should we do, have a date night every week?” I asked with a grin.
“I would agree, but I know that one of us would find a way of breaking it soon enough. Let’s just not let these moments slip away from us when they present themselves. We’ll take the opportunities as they come and be glad for each and every one of them. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said, and then I took another bite of pie. It was delicious cold, and I’d recently decided that I liked it chilled better than when it came hot out of the oven. The juices had a way of growing richer and sweeter if I could only keep from eating the pie the moment it first emerged. I had to admit that it had helped that I hadn’t been at home when Momma had made it.
I yawned after I took the last bite, and Momma said, “You must be exhausted, and you have to get up earlier than any woman should.”
“I’m okay,” I said. “What are you reading right now? Is it another mystery?”
“No, I guessed the last three killers correctly, so I’m going to switch to biographies for a while until my keen detective sense isn’t so finely honed.”
I laughed at that, and then admitted, “I’m glad you can figure out who the killers are. I always think I know, and then it turns out that I guessed wrong. I don’t know how the writers do it, do you?”