Cast Iron Conviction (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 2)

by Jessica Beck

  The woman was clearly rattled about something. “Betty, what’s going on?” I asked as I took another seat nearby.

  She sighed heavily before she spoke again. “I thought it was all behind me when Mitchell died ten years ago. It took me forever to get over his murder. It wasn’t just the fact that he was killed, it was that he had been cheating on me with someone else at the time. I have a feeling that whoever it was is the one who murdered him.”

  “It’s just a guess though, isn’t it?” I asked as I rocked nearby.

  “Maybe so, but it’s an educated one. Mitchell and I were going to be married. Did you know that?”

  “No, I hadn’t heard that.”

  “Well, it’s true,” she said. “He proposed the night before he was slain. I’m guessing that he broke it off with whoever he was seeing on the side, and they killed him in a fit of rage.”

  “It’s entirely possible,” I said, “but unfortunately, a few other folks had it in for Mitchell besides his other romantic interests.” She must have missed my reference to plural women.

  Betty laughed harshly. “Don’t dignify her relationship with my fiancé by labeling it as romantic. It was physical, a convenience for Mitchell, and nothing more.” She paused a moment before adding, “I know how I’m making him sound. He wasn’t an angel by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t deserve to die because of a few lapses in judgment.”

  “No, I agree with you there. Do you have any idea at all who he was secretly seeing when he was murdered?”

  “It was either Sally Tremont or Harriet Parton. That much I’m sure about.” I suspected that it might have been both, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

  “Not Edith Bost?” I asked.

  “Edith? No. Of course not. Why would you even think that for one moment? Edith was happily married at the time Mitchell was murdered.”

  “Did she have any kind of relationship at all with Mitchell?”

  “I just said that she wasn’t sleeping with him!” Betty snapped, her temper coming to light. It hadn’t been the first time she’d yelled at me, or most of the folks who knew her. Was she really here to help us figure out who had killed Mitchell Wells, or was she fishing for information to see if we suspected her in that killing, and Albert Yeats’s homicide as well?

  “Take it easy, Betty. We’re on the same side here.”

  She took a few audible breaths, and when she spoke again, she was calm once more. “Albert had to stir things up,” she said. “And then he went and got himself killed, too.”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t part of his plan,” I said.

  “Of course it wasn’t. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Why are you asking me about Edith?”

  “I understand that she had a secret she was guarding, and I wondered what that might have had to do with Mitchell.”

  Betty frowned, and then she said, “There was something going on. I came into the room once when the two of them were talking. Mitchell was glaring at Edith, and she looking back at him defiantly. When I asked them what was going on, they said that it was something from the past. Come to think of it, just before she left, Edith said, “And that’s where it’s going to stay, if I have anything to say about it.” It struck me as odd, but Mitchell just shrugged the whole thing off. When I pressed him about it, he said that it was family business, and he wouldn’t say anything else about it.”

  How odd. What could that mean? It seemed as though I was going to have to have another uncomfortable conversation with Edith in the morning. She needed to clear this up for us once and for all.

  “Did you know anything about Ollie’s beef with Mitchell?” I asked. I knew the story, but I wanted to know if she did.

  Betty frowned and stared down at her hands for a few seconds before she answered. “Yes, I knew all about that will business. It wasn’t my fiancé’s finest moment.”

  “Did you tell the police about it at the time?” I asked. “It might have mattered then.”

  “I tried to, but they were determined to put Albert in prison for the murder, and they wouldn’t listen to any other theories.”

  “Did you honestly believe that Albert killed Mitchell at the time?”

  “Pat, I was so grief-stricken that I wanted to lash out at someone, and Albert became an easy target. It was only after he was in jail that I began to think rationally again, and by then, it was too late.”

  I hadn’t learned much so far by being passive in my questioning, so it was time to push Betty a little harder. “Didn’t the police look at you as a suspect?” I asked her gently.

  “Of course they did,” she said. “If I hadn’t had an airtight alibi myself, I might have taken Albert’s place in prison. I was certain that in their minds, a betrayal of our engagement was enough of a motive for me.”

  “Do you mind me asking what your alibi was?”

  “It’s ironic in a way. I was having dinner with Judge Winslow’s daughter at the time of Mitchell’s murder.”

  “What’s ironic about that?”

  “She was helping me plan my wedding at the exact same time that my fiancé was being stabbed to death.”

  I didn’t think that qualified as irony, but I wasn’t about to point that out to her. At least we’d be able to strike her name off the list of suspects for Mitchell’s murder, and if we were right in assuming that the killer of both men was one and the same, she was off the hook for Albert’s as well.

  “Can you give me any hints about how I might get some of the other suspects to talk to me?” I asked her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is there something that only you and Mitchell knew about any of them? I’m looking for a way to push someone into a confession, so the more damaging the information about them, the better.”

  “You know that I hate gossip, but I think I can help you there.” Was there a gleam in her eye as she spoke?

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable inside?” I asked. There was a distinct chill in the air now that it was dark, and my suit wasn’t all that warm to begin with.

  “No, I’m fine,” she said.

  Apparently I was just going to have to shiver my way through the rest of our conversation. “Go on, then.”

  “Let’s see. Where to begin? Okay, we should probably start with Sally Tremont. Did you know that besides the possibility that she was sleeping with Mitchell, there was someone else in her bed on occasion?”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Ask Ollie Wilson about it,” she said smugly.

  “Hang on a second. Sally and Ollie were together at some point?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “But they hate each other,” I said.

  “Sure, now, but once upon a time, they were hot and heavy at it. That’s why I was surprised after Mitchell and Ollie had their falling out that Sally might have kept on seeing my fiancé as well. I can think of one reason, though.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, still blown away by the implication that those two had ever had an affair in the first place.

  “She may have stayed close to him to exact her revenge,” Betty said.

  “Could she really be that cold hearted?” I asked.

  “Patrick, you’re still young. You have a lot to learn about people, and women in particular.”

  “No argument there,” I said. “If that was the case, Ollie could have had two reasons to hate Mitchell as well; the improprieties with the will, and the fact that Mitchell was sleeping with his girlfriend. Either motive would be powerful enough incentive for some men.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Betty said, “but it makes sense to me.”

  “What about Harriet?” I asked her.

  “Do you know there’s a reason she never married?” Betty asked me.

  “I just assumed it was because she’d never found the right one.”

  “In her mind, she did, but he ended up breaking her heart. She was shattered when Mitchell was murdered, even more than
I was. I kept thinking that maybe it was a guilty conscience over killing him herself that drove her to such despair.”

  “How can I use that against her, though?” I hated thinking that way about people I’d known as friends for years, but Annie and I had to come up with something.

  “What if I told you that it wasn’t just being spurned that sent her into a tailspin?”

  “It might help to know more,” I said.

  “I’m not proud of this, but Mitchell used money he extorted from Harriet’s father to buy my engagement ring.”

  “Did he actually tell you that himself?” I asked. I was beginning to wonder why someone hadn’t gotten rid of Mitchell Wells sooner than they did. The man was a real cad in every sense of the word.

  “No. She did, right after the funeral. She actually tried to pry it off my finger! Can you believe it? When I refused to give it to her, she told me the entire story; her version of it, at any rate. Mitchell learned about something Harriet’s father did that was considered shady at the time, and he’d used the information as a club on poor Harriet.”

  “It’s hard to reconcile the woman I know with the one you’re portraying. She doesn’t seem the emotional type, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s how she got that way, Pat. He broke her completely, and she swore to me that she’d never let her emotions control her life again.”

  If what Betty was telling me was true, then Harriet was going to be tough to crack.

  I hated myself for asking, but I had no choice if I was going to be thorough. “What about Edith?”

  “Sorry. I can’t help you there. I’ve told you all that I know.”

  As she finished speaking, there was a snapped twig in the trees beside the Iron, and Betty’s head went up like a shot. “Who’s there?” she called out.

  “Did you see someone?” I asked her as I got off the porch and started in the direction where the sound had come from. Someone was keeping tabs on my movements, and I was getting tired of it.

  “Not a face, but a flash of something shiny reflected in the light from the streetlamp,” she said.

  The next moment, there was a crashing through the trees, and I took off in the direction of the sound. What I was going to do if I caught the eavesdropper was something else altogether, but I didn’t find out. I was still fighting my way through the dense copse when I heard a car speed off, and by the time I got into the street, whoever had been there was now gone.

  “Did you see who it was?” Betty asked me as she joined me in the street.

  “No, they were too quick for me.” I turned to look at her and could see that the blood had all drained from her face. “Are you okay?”

  “What do you think?” she snapped at me. “I just gave a killer enough motive to get rid of me, too.”

  “Take it easy, Betty. This is no time to panic. We don’t even know if whoever was out there heard anything.”

  “We don’t know that they didn’t hear it all, either. This town is suddenly not as safe as it once was for me. I’m leaving, Pat.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Does it matter? I’m planning on taking a vacation until someone catches the killer. I refuse to be the next victim.”

  “What about your shop?” I asked her.

  “I have competent people running it,” she said brusquely. “I’m beginning to regret opening up to you, Pat.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  She touched my hand lightly. “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You’re the one who needs to watch his step now.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Whoever was out there knows that you’re a real threat to their freedom now,” she said. “That puts you squarely in the killer’s sights.”

  “I’ll be all right,” I said.

  “I just wish you sounded more confident,” Betty said. “I’m sorry if I put you in danger, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Good-bye, Pat.”

  “Bye, Betty. Thanks for sharing all of that with me. I know how painful it must have been for you to dredge up the past like that.”

  “The wounds will never heal completely, but I’ll manage.”

  After she drove away, I headed inside, being careful to lock the door behind me. In fact, I was halfway up the stairs to my apartment when I pivoted and went back to double check. It was properly locked, but I knew that I’d sleep better knowing it.

  I wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, though.

  I had a call to make.

  “I’m fine, Pat,” were the first words out of Annie’s mouth when she realized that I was calling.

  “Why shouldn’t you be? Did something happen?” What had my twin sister gotten herself into this time?

  “I thought Kathleen must have called you. Never mind. What’s up?”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “Just no,” I said. “You’re not brushing it off that easily. Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s really no big deal. I had a late-night visitor at the cabin, that’s all.”

  “Was it Greg?” I asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “The man’s still in love with you, Annie. Who else would it be?” Answering my own question, I realized that it could have been the killer, but I hadn’t even considered that possibility.

  “He was drunk, but I handled him. Rather Kathleen did. He’s either at the hospital getting blood drawn to check his level of intoxication, or he’s in jail. Either way, I’m rid of him.”

  “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

  “Relax, Pat. I stopped him at the door. I’m fine. If that’s not why you’re calling, could it be about your big date?”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” I said. “I won’t quiz you about your evening with Timothy if you don’t ask me about mine with Jenna.”

  “Sold,” she said quickly. “Was that it?”

  “No. You’re not the only one who had a late-night visitor. Betty Murphy was waiting for me when I got back to the Iron.”

  “Did she try to hurt you?” Annie asked, the concern clear in her voice.

  “Anything but, actually. She had an alibi we didn’t know about for Mitchell’s murder, one the police knew but failed to document.”

  “Then we strike her name off our list,” Annie said.

  “Once we verify it, we can, but I tend to believe it. It’s too easy to check out. While she was here, she gave me some solid information.”

  “Then by all means, let’s hear it,” Annie said. “What did she tell you?”

  “Well, we already guessed that either Sally or Harriet was sleeping with Mitchell, maybe both of them, and she confirmed our suspicions.”

  “Didn’t we already suspect as much?” Annie sounded impatient, but I could only tell her what I knew one way, so she’d just have to wait.

  “Yes, but we didn’t know that Sally was also sleeping with Ollie. She had two reasons to kill Mitchell, and so did Ollie.”

  “Interesting,” Annie said, and I knew that she was processing what I’d just told her. “How about Harriet?”

  “She had two reasons as well. Besides being spurned, Mitchell extorted money from her father to buy Betty’s engagement ring.”

  “Wow, I bet she blew a fuse. It’s hard to see Harriet that way, but if anything would do it, it would be something like that.”

  “I know.”

  “What about Edith?” she asked me, the hesitancy clear in her voice.

  “All Betty knew was there was tension between Edith and Mitchell before the murder, and that it had something to do with family business. I’m planning on speaking with her in the morning.”

  “Let me do it, Pat.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “She’s more likely to open up to me,” Annie said, and I knew that it was true. While Edith and I got along just fine, she and my twin sister had a stronger bond.

  “Fine.”

  �
��Seriously? You’re going to give in that easily?”

  “Hey, when you’re right, you’re right,” I said.

  “Wow, I’m impressed. My little brother is growing up.”

  “We’re the same age in every way that counts, Annie.”

  “Not by the clock,” she said smugly. I might have been younger, but I was far more mature. Well, a little bit more, at any rate.

  “So, we have a plan. Tomorrow, we use our new information and see if we can make someone snap. If we need more, will Betty help us?”

  “She’s gone, Annie.”

  “Gone as in left, or is she dead, too?” My twin’s voice was suddenly shaky as she asked the question.

  “I shouldn’t have used that term. Sorry. She left town, and she’s not coming back until the killer is behind bars.”

  “Why would she run away if she’s not a suspect?”

  “Someone was spying on us as we spoke, and she’s afraid for her life. That’s the real reason she’s running away.”

  “Maybe she’s the smartest one of all,” Annie said.

  “I’d say probably, but we’ve both got to be here in order to help Kathleen.”

  “I know that. While we’re asking questions tomorrow, we should also find out if any of them have alibis for last night. I know we’re digging into Mitchell’s murder, but there’s no reason we can’t ask about Albert as well.”

  “There’s one very good reason, and you know it,” I said. “That case is Kathleen’s. Don’t you think we have enough to worry about just trying to solve one murder?”

  “I suppose so,” she answered, and then my sister stifled a yawn.

  I took the hint, since I was tired as well. “There’s nothing else we can do tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Are your doors locked, Pat?”

  “I double-checked. Are yours?”

  “I not only locked them, but there are chairs in front of each one as well, with pie tins balancing on top. Nobody’s going to be able to get in without me knowing about it.”

  CHAPTER 19: ANNIE

  “It’s good to have you back, Edith. Do you have a second? We need to talk about something before you get started today,” I told our postmistress when she walked into the Iron the next morning. I’d been pretending to be busy cleaning the counter, hoping that she’d show up today. Pat was making himself scarce in back, per my request. He and Skip were going through a new order, unpacking it and shelving everything, but mostly they were just staying out of our way.