Juniper had chosen a table far away from the truck, near a stand of trees so she could enjoy the fresh earthy smell of the cut grass. Oliver Stone must have been thinking the same thing because he was just leaving the table next to hers.
“Oliver, hey!”
“Junie, grabbin’ a late lunch?”
“Yep. Meeting Jack. Hey! I saw your grandfather.”
“Oh, yes, he’s quite the handful these days. Dad wants to put him in the Boho Retirement Community but my sister and I think that would be the end of him.”
Juniper nodded. She debated sharing what Grant had told her but Oliver had enough on his plate at the moment.
“How’s Michèle? I’m worried.”
“Oh, you heard, then?” Oliver said somberly. “She’s good—she didn’t quite feel like venturing out in public yet so I’m taking her home dinner.”
“Nice. I was worried the BLPD might . . . you know… charge her or Fern. Well. I’m glad she’s home.”
“You thought they might arrest her for attacking that blackmailing scumball?” He touched her arm. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s been a rough day.”
“To say the least. No apology necessary.”
Oliver smiled, “She’s not being arrested. Neither is Fern. Thankfully, the police agreed it was self-defense. And fortunately, Patone is still alive, so for now they are free.” He gave her a tired smile, and Juniper thought how hard this had to be on him. He shook his head as if to shake off the bad vibes and gazed around at the surrounding trees. “I hear you’re making excellent progress on the Mill, especially given the circumstances.”
Juniper nodded. “It’s coming along pretty well.”
“It’s nice that you hired Jason Battams,” he said. “He was always a great kid.”
“And a great team player,” Juniper said, pushing her windswept hair off her face. “I’m lucky to have him on my crew.”
“The Battams children overcame a lot of obstacles,” he murmured. “Their father was a real brute.”
“You and Belinda were close?” Juniper asked.
“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes narrowed in thought. “We had a band—The Stage. Chase Battams didn’t take too kindly to Belinda singing on the weekends. He wanted her working all the time so she could help Tiff support his drinking habit. I had a few run-ins with him.”
“What a shame.”
“The man was a user and a bully.” He stared across the picnic table and Juniper wondered if he was looking into the past. “I just . . . I just wish Belinda had been given the chance to sing somewhere far away like she’d always dreamed of doing. I’d always hoped…” Oliver checked his phone and sighed. “I’d better get home before Michèle’s poutine gets cold.”
“Thanks for the chat. Let Michèle know that my thoughts are with her.”
“I will.” He smiled, turned and jogged back in the direction of the parking lot.
A smile tugged at the corners of Juniper’s lips a moment later when she saw Jack’s truck pull into the parking lot. He wore faded jeans and a sweatshirt and managed to capture the attention of most of the female patrons. Juniper laughed to herself as she watched their heads turn to watch him. It wasn’t unusual to see this type of reaction. With his tall frame, broad shoulders and boyish good looks, Jack was a chick magnet. It had been that way since College.
Jack saw her and headed straight to the table.
Juniper pushed the tray toward him. “Got your favorite—chili poutine with extra jalapeños.”
He rewarded her with his crooked smile—the one that made his eyes sparkle and accentuated his dimple. The one that she’d seen him use, quite successfully, to charm many women.
“How was your afternoon?” she asked as she bit into her jalapeño cheese fry.
“Uneventful. Yours?” He wiped a glob of chili from the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, you know, I had a visit with Grandpa Stone,” Juniper told him.
Jack reached for one of the tall paper cups of soda she’d bought. “Is Grant still furious with us?”
“Yes, but now I know why.”
“Don’t hold out on me now.” He took a long sip through his straw.
As Jack mowed down his food, Juniper related the entire story of poor Trephinia’s attack and the cover-up that followed. As she talked, Juniper noticed the other women were still staring at him, but Jack seemed totally unaware of their attention. His attention was solely on her as if she was the only person that existed. When Juniper was done, Jack took her hand, and they sat in silence for several long minutes.
“I admit I’m fascinated by the McNitt family. Tragedy has really followed them around and they seem tied to that property,” Jack said.
“I thought maybe Penny could write a tribute of sorts to Trephinia.” Juniper shrugged as she shoved the last of her poutine into her mouth.
He squeezed her hand. “That’s a great idea. The tale of the housemaid who was assaulted. With Albert’s sad story about Trephinia and the discovery of Belinda’s bones, Pike might have to bring in the Vianus to cleanse the place,” Jack said.
“Not a bad idea,” Juniper replied.
Eventually the subject changed to the wedding. The guest list, the menu and Jack once again tried to nail down a date to which Juniper evaded and suggested they elope. Paris was her pick.
They had just returned to the Inn when they saw Kaden leaning against the porch railing.
“Kaden, hi. What are you doing here? I thought you were having dinner with Mallory Vianu?” Jack commented.
“I am. I just stopped by to ask Junie about her friendly chat with Frank Patone.”
“Friendly. Huh?” Understanding dawned. “Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that. An eyewitness says you threatened him.”
“Maybe a little.”
Jack held up both hands in a sign of capitulation. “Listen, Kaden. Junie was just putting him in his place. He’s lucky she found out before me.”
“Found out what?”
“That he’d offered several of our crew members a hefty payload to leave and go work with him. It’s not like she went looking for trouble. The creep was here ready to gloat when she came home.”
Juniper crossed her arms and nodded. “What he said!”
Kaden sighed. “Where’d you go after that?”
“Up the hill. Michèle was coming out of Cookies & Corsets and came after me.” Juniper held the door open, “You might as well come inside. You want something to drink?”
“No, thanks.” Kaden took off his jacket and tossed it on the barstool before sitting down at the bar, then pulled a small notepad from his pocket and opened it. “Did Michèle say anything to you that made you think she might have a grudge against Frank Patone?”
“A grudge? But you can’t think she actually planned to hit him. He attacked her. Anyway, I thought it was Fern who bashed his head in to protect Michèle.”
“We’re just following up. I just need to know what she said.”
Juniper squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember their conversation, “I told her what had happened. She said Frank was always a troublemaker, even back in high school. He was always pushing people’s buttons.”
“Guess he pushed a few of yours.”
Juniper gave Kaden a dirty look, “You could say that. We talked about his convenient timing. How he suddenly moved back to town once the mill had been willed to Pike?”
“Did she think the two events were connected?”
“She did. We both assume he realized that Belinda’s body would be discovered once the mill changed ownership, and he decided he’d better be nearby when it happened.”
Chapter Thirty Four
J uniper spent the next day at the old mill, where she continued to demolish the old bathroom in the main part of the house. It felt darn good to be destroying things—in a constructive way, of course. Queenie joined in the fun and together they managed to pull out the original clawfoot tub and set it outside the bath
room door. She’d hired a forklift to carry the heaviest stuff over to the Dumpster a few dozen yards up the road. This tub, on the other hand, would be taken directly to her truck. Juniper planned to restore it and use it in another lucky house.
“Hey, Junie,” Queenie said, trying to get her attention over the hammering.
“Yeah.” Juniper set down the sledgehammer and grabbed her water bottle. “What’s up?”
“Don’t you gotta go,” she said, and pulled her cell out of her back pocket. “You said you had to pick up your neighbor from music lessons, right? It’s almost 4pm.”
“Oh, shoot. I do.” Juniper put her tools away and grabbed her jacket and purse. See you tomorrow.”
“Have a good one, boss.”
Juniper was curious to find out how Michèle was doing.
On the way, she thought about Frank, still clinging to life in the hospital. What would happen when he recovered? Would he go back to being a jerk or would he be chastened?
Everyone would know that he’d tried to blackmail Michèle. How would he be able to face anyone? Never mind; Juniper knew the answer. He would bluster and lie. By the time he’d finished, Frank would have Michèle looking like some mastermind criminal. And thinking of Frank made her wonder for the umpteenth time why or what, exactly, he’d been trying to blackmail her over.
Juniper didn’t run into her neighbor Kara out on the walkway, so she kept going to Oliver’s studio. The door was closed, so she peeked inside through the reinforced-glass square.
Oliver sat at his desk in the front of the room and Kara stood talking to him. She looked so pretty in a simple blue sweater and jeans, with her long-braided hair. She’d heard that Kara looked like her Aunt Belinda but she’d never seen pictures.
Juniper knocked on the door and walked inside. “Hi, you two.”
“Hey, Junie,” Oliver said.
“Hi, Oliver.” Juniper gazed at Kara. “Are you ready to go, Kara?”
They waved, and Juniper turned to leave just in time to see Oliver’s dad, retired police captain Bruce Stone standing outside the music shop’s window, staring at Oliver. Or was he looking at Kara? He wore a look of pain, and Juniper wondered if it haunted him that he’d never found Belinda’s killer.
Juniper dropped Kara off at her house and made a U-turn, driving the short distance out to the old sawmill.
Since Juniper was wearing her Bluetooth, she gave Jack a quick call to let him know she’d be late for dinner.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m driving out to the mill. I left in a rush and forgot my purse.”
“Well, hurry up. I’m making quinoa for the salmon as we speak.”
“Oh.” Juniper was surprised and happy.
“I love it when you cook healthy.”
“I know.” He laughed. “I’m trying this new blood orange glaze so I hope it turns out.”
“Well, I’ll pick up the pace then.” Juniper disconnected the call and sighed. Maybe when they finished with the Mill, they could finally begin planning their wedding. Jack’s family wanted to have it at the Vineyard but Juniper’s family lived all over the world so coordinating dates was tricky.
Juniper turned onto Old Mill Road and bumped along over the potholes and cracks for a quarter of a mile until she reached the big house at the end of the road. She reached the house and was pleased to see that no one was there. Not a car remained. She’d be in and out with no distractions.
Standing outside of her truck, Juniper breathed the air and let her gaze sweep across the water. For some reason, the air here felt cleaner than in town, even though it wasn’t far. Maybe it was the fact that there were no stores and streets in the way.
Juniper crossed the wide, scruffy lawn, hurried up the steps to the porch, fitted her key in the lock, turned it and entered.
The house greeted her with an eerie silence.
“Hello? Anyone here?” she called, even though she already knew everyone was gone. Her voice sounded far too soft, she thought, so she cleared her voice and called out again. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. She walked through to the back and saw that the place was indeed empty.
Tentatively, she moved forward into the new kitchen. On the counter there was a note from her foreman, giving her an update on what had been done and asking her about some of the measurements. She smiled. She really did have a great team.
It was getting dark, so she flipped on a few lights as she made her way to where the dining room was going and pulled out her pocket tape measure.
As she measured the space and made a list of the hardware they would have to replace, Juniper was careful not to look at the spot where the roller had been. It still gave her chills to think of Belinda’s bones inside there. Instead she forced herself to study and admire the interior design of the house. Juniper loved quirky projects, and this mill was filled with them. She was determined to renovate it so beautifully that Pike would never connect death and murder to her new home.
Juniper heard a noise above her.
Darn it, why had she come back here alone? Why weren’t any of her crew working late today?
Juniper was suddenly leery of being in a place where a girl had once been murdered. And she didn’t like the feeling.
Then again, maybe it was only a tree branch brushing against the outside wall or the roof. Or most likely Albert.
She stood up straight and tried very carefully to hear the sound again. But there was nothing. Juniper stood beneath one of the second-floor grates and could hear the distinct murmur of a human voice.
Juniper wasn’t alone in the house. There was the Doctor, but something told her it wasn’t him. Shivers flitted and leaped over every inch of her skin, covering her from the top of her head to her ankles.
If anyone had been watching her, Juniper knew what they’d be thinking: she could also call the police. She compromised and sent Jack a text to let him know where she was and that she was checking out some odd noises. He could make the next move. The noises had come from upstairs, but she wasn’t sure if they had come from the mill side or the house side.
She tiptoed across the foyer and quietly climbed the stairs to the second floor. The top of the mill was empty, so she moved through the open doorway to the house. As she got closer to the top, she could hear the mumbled words growing louder. Prepared to run at any second, Juniper took a tentative step onto the second-floor landing and froze. There was an old man standing there.
He was so thin he was practically skeletal.
Just like the bones in the roller.
Was he real?
She walked closer to him. There were only a few silver tufts of hair on his head. What on earth was going on? Did they have another ghost? To her astonishment he turned around and she recognized him.
“Grant?”
The old man jolted, then turned and grinned at her. “Junie!” He held up what looked like an old army green messenger bag. “I was looking around up here and I found this. It was jammed in the ironing cupboard.”
It took her a full minute to catch her breath from being frightened half to death. “Grant, what’re you doing here all alone? How did you get here?”
“My granddaughter has some friends visiting, and she brought them to go swimming in the river. I hitched a ride, but I wandered over here. The back door was open, so I figured, What the heck? Thought I’d take a look around.”
“All righty.” Relief flooded through her. Her intruder was no more than a curious old man who had vivid memories of this house. But her breath remained stilted as she led the way downstairs to the kitchen, where the lights were brightest and they could see exactly what he’d found in the cupboard.
“I guess you saw the kitchen in progress,” Juniper said.
“Sure did,” he said, looking around. “You’ve really worked your magic on it.”
“Thanks. Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.” Juniper turned on the light that had once shone o
ver the now-departed sink, and he held up the messenger bag. Juniper unbuckled and flipped open the wide flap.
“Must be some kid’s,” he said.
“Yeah.” Juniper agreed as she pulled out a notebook. She already knew whose it was as she flipped the notebook open. The first page was covered in doodles and flowery writing that looked like a teenage girl’s. Here and there on the page were hearts drawn around the initials BB and OS.
“Belinda Battams,” Juniper murmured. But who was OS? Juniper mentally scanned the list of boys who’d been in school with Belinda and couldn’t think of anyone with those initials. And suddenly her heart stuttered in her chest. “Oliver Stone.”
“What’s that?” Grant said.
“Nothing,” Juniper said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Sorry, Mr. Stone. I was just thinking out loud.”
And Juniper hated what she was thinking. It doesn’t have to mean anything, Juniper tried to convince herself. But Belinda had gone missing. Belinda had been pregnant. And Belinda had drawn little hearts with Oliver’s initials on her notebooks. It couldn’t be true, could it?
But no matter what Juniper told herself, Juniper knew it had to be true. Oliver Stone had to have been the father of Belinda’s baby. They were bandmates and therefore spent a lot of time together. Did Grant know that? Had he come here to steal the evidence to protect his grandson? No, why would he be showing her if that were the case.
Frank Patone had tried to blackmail Michèle. It made her wonder if Frank had known that Oliver Stone was the father of Belinda’s baby.
But how did Frank even find out that Belinda was pregnant? Did she tell him? Why would she tell him if she was cheating on him unless she was breaking up with him?
Putting those thoughts aside, Juniper returned to the messenger bag. Opening the main pocket, Juniper could clearly see a flimsy blouse and a balled-up pair of jeans. There were possibly shoes and socks and underwear beneath the jeans, but Juniper didn’t want to disturb the contents any more than she already had.
Crumb Cake, Corpses and the Run of the Mill Page 13