by S F Bose
“Have you seen Peter and Martha?”
“No, they’re staying with friends in Mystic Grove. Their daughter came out from Madison to help with the arrangements, once they release Justin’s body. I heard they plan to reopen the Emporium tomorrow.” Abbie squeezed a salt shaker in one hand. “I feel so sorry for them.”
I ran my hand over the table. “Me too. They should take more time off. It has to be a terrible shock.”
Abbie looked around the dining room. “Well, I think they struggle quite a bit to keep things going. Every day they’re closed, no money is coming in.”
“I didn’t realize they were having financial problems. I can understand why they want to open back up right away. I’m relieved they were away in Madison. No telling how things would have turned out.”
Abbie’s eyes bugged out. “Oh lordy, I hadn’t even thought of that!”
The door chime rang and she looked over toward the register. Abbie quickly stood, looking shell-shocked.
“Thanks Abbie,” I said and she gave me a weak smile and fluttery wave. Then she hurried away.
Chapter 19
Sam munched happily on one of the English muffins while I demolished my omelet. In between bites, I filled him in on my chat with Abbie.
“Does Angela Apstead know Ben?” he asked, taking a sip of tea.
I swallowed the last of my omelet. “I’m not sure. Ben and Mom have gone to Village Board meetings. It’s possible they’ve met.”
“So what direction are you leaning?”
I dabbed at my mouth with a paper napkin, took a healthy gulp of coffee, and put it back on a coaster. Sitting back in the chair, I locked eyes with him.
“I think we should take the case.”
Sam smiled and his eyes actually twinkled.
I laughed. “You just did a mental fist pump, didn’t you?” He laughed too.
“I did. What changed your mind?” he asked. I watched as he methodically spread the second English muffin with grape jelly.
“A number of things. I really don’t think Ben killed Justin. I also know we’d care more about clearing him than any other investigators. And there’s at least one other viable suspect, possibly two,” I said.
“Mark Sweet is one. Who’s the other possible suspect?”
I took a sip of coffee. “If the man Angela saw wasn’t Sweet or Ben, then we have another unknown suspect.”
“Good point. This will be great experience for you. How would you move forward?” Sam asked. I watched him eat the bagel. He was wearing black jeans and a gray mock turtleneck with four buttons in front. Does he own any colorful clothes, I wondered. I gave my head a little shake.
“I know we aren’t officially hired yet, but I’d like to talk to Angela Apstead this afternoon. Abbie said she’d introduce us. We can find out if Angela knows Ben and maybe get more details from her.”
Sam sipped his tea. “I don’t have any objections to doing a few interviews. If your mom decides not to hire us, we can pass along any information we get to the police. Do you have a picture of Ben?”
“Yes, on my cellphone. I’d also like to find out what the police know. But Matt isn’t likely to share.”
Sam grimaced. “In many ways, Matt views us as the enemy. But there is another way.”
“How?” I asked. “Oh! Newmont! Do you think he’d fill us in?”
Sam smiled. “I’ll talk to him and try to set up something. He’s dating Joyce Tani. Maybe she’ll help too.”
“He is? I didn’t know that.” I gave him a probing look.
“That’s closely held information. It’s better that Matt and others don’t know.”
“My lips are sealed,” I agreed. I knew all about keeping secrets.
He polished off his tea and dropped it in the Farmhouse Café bag. “So you should call your mom and let her know we’ll take the case. Set up an appointment for Friday morning. We’ll go over and interview Ben. I’ll bring our standard contract. With family, I think it’s better to do it formally and establish the fee up front. What do you think?”
“I agree. They’ll take us more seriously too.”
My cellphone chirped the arrival of a text message. I pulled the phone out of my jeans’ pocket and quickly checked the message.
“It’s from my mom. Looks like she’s left a few messages and is getting antsy,” I said, returning the phone to my pocket.
Sam sat back in his chair. “She’s probably stressed out. She’ll calm down once she knows we’re working the case.”
“Sam, I have to warn you, Mom is an impatient, aggressive, Type A personality. She’ll try to control the investigation.”
He shrugged. “We won’t let her. Once they sign the contract, she and Ben become our clients. She’ll stop being your mom for the duration of the case.”
I snorted and then burst out laughing. “Are you going to tell her that? Because I’m sure not going to tell her that.”
A smile played on Sam’s lips but he looked uncertain. “We’ll play it by ear,” he said finally.
“Okay, Boss,” I agreed and left his office to go call my mother.
“Don’t call me Boss,” he muttered and I laughed.
First, I brewed a cup of caramel cappuccino. Coffee comforted me. Then I went to my office. I sat at the desk and drank half a mug before calling Mom using the desk phone. When I heard her say “Hello,” I gritted my teeth.
“Hi Mom, it’s Liz,” I said, tapping a pen against a notepad on my desk.
“Liz Bean, I have called and texted you over five times with no reply.” She was obviously pissed.
“Sorry Mom. I’ll cut to the chase. Sam and I will investigate the Justin Church murder, if you want to move forward. But I do think if you wait for the ballistics tests on Ben’s guns, he’ll be cleared.”
“We’ve been through this before. We need to clear Ben’s name as quickly as possible.”
“Okay. In that case, Sam and I would like to come out Friday morning to talk to you and Ben. How’s 10:00 a.m. for you? We’ll also have a contract and Sam can explain the fees for you,” I said. There was an extended silence.
“Mom?”
“You’re charging us?” she asked in a tight voice.
“Have to, Mom. Sam’s running a business here.”
“We don’t really need Sam. You can do the investigating.”
I shook my head. “I’m not licensed. I can’t investigate anything without Sam.”
There was another extended silence. Then I heard her sigh. “Okay, that’s how we’ll do it then. 10:00 on Friday is fine. Your delay has already cost us time in proving Ben’s innocence.”
Instead of the usual regret, I felt a sizzle of anger build in my head. Shrugging it off, I said, “Okay, see you Friday,” and I hung up.
I stared at the phone. “It’s about Ben and not her,” I said with resolve.
Chapter 20
Sam and I sat in a booth in the back of the small dining room at the Farmhouse Café. Diners packed the room, their conversations rising and falling around us in waves. The smaller room magnified the clinking of silverware on plates and sudden bursts of laughter. I recognized many of the diners as local residents.
We arrived at noon so that we could eat before chatting with Angela Apstead. Abbie promised to let us know when she arrived. I had a bacon cheeseburger with fries, while Sam dug into a small dinner salad, two baked potatoes, and dinner rolls with butter. His meal choices were becoming less eccentric. Instead of eating only potatoes for all three meals, he was eating different food groups. I was strangely proud of him.
Sam’s cellphone buzzed and he checked his text messages.
“Newmont. I left him a message earlier about meeting with us. He and Joyce will stop by the office at 4:00 p.m.”
“Sounds good.” I sipped some lemon soda.
It was after 1:00 p.m. when Abbie came over and said she’d seated Angela in the large dining room. We got up and followed her into the next room, which was two-thirds full. Abbi
e threaded her way around tables and led us to a woman seated at a table in the back. Abbie introduced us to Angela, who narrowed her hazel eyes at us.
Sam spoke in a low voice. “I’m Sam Nolan and this is Liz Bean. We’re investigating the death of Justin Church and wondered if we could ask you a few questions?”
Angela Apstead was in her early 30’s. She had a thin frame, no make-up, and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a wedding band on her left ring finger. Since she was dressed in running gear and her cheeks were cherry red, it was clear she had run to the Farmhouse Café. Her eyes darted back and forth between us. Angela frowned and looked like she wanted to bolt.
“They’re good people, Angie,” Abbie said quietly and Angela visibly relaxed. She took a deep breath.
“Of course. Anything I can do to help,” she said. “Please sit down.” I threw Abbie a grateful smile and sat down across from Angela. Sam sat to my left.
“Would you like coffee and pie now?” Abbie asked Angela.
“Just coffee for now. I’ll have the pie when we’re done. Thanks Abbie,” Angela said. Abbie smiled and hurried off. I looked around and the tables next to us were empty.
“Do you mind if I record this? I take terrible notes,” I said and smiled. She returned the smile.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
I pressed the voice recorder app on my phone and placed it in the middle of the table.
“I’m sorry if I seemed rude. I’m still rattled. The murder has made me a nervous wreck,” Angela said.
“I can understand that,” I replied. “It had to be a shock.”
“That man may well have been the murderer. It didn’t sink in until later and then I couldn’t stop shaking,” she said with a sigh.
“Do you run every day?” asked Sam. Angela’s eyes cut to him.
“Yes, I try to. I work at home and run to break up the day. I usually run three miles to the Café every day.” Then she made a face. “It’s not very healthy, I guess, running to a restaurant to eat.” We all laughed. “Then sometimes I run in the late afternoon, too.”
“And what kind of work do you do?” Sam asked.
“Freelance writing. I write for blogs and magazines. I also write fiction for clients. The extra money helps with the kids’ school expenses. My husband teaches at the University, but doesn’t have tenure yet, so every little bit helps,” she said and smiled faintly.
Abbie returned to the table and filled Angela’s coffee cup with decaf. I flipped my cup over and Abbie filled that too. Sam shook his head when Abbie gave him a questioning look.
“Thanks, Abbie,” Angela said and Abbie smiled. Then she was off to other tables.
“So could you run through what happened Monday night?” I asked, pouring cream and then packets of sugar into my coffee.
Angela nodded her head. Her eyebrows drew together. “Sure. Roy had office hours on Monday and then was teaching his evening class until 8:00 p.m. My kids went to my sister’s house after school to hang out with her kids and have dinner there. So after I finished a project, I decided to go for a run. I came down Pond Road, past Mystic Pond, and cut into the Emporium parking lot. It was a cold day. I ran around Eclectic Gifts and stopped to check my heart rate and the run time on my watch. I had just clicked the stop button on my watch when I saw the man.”
“What side of Eclectic were you on?” I asked.
“The south side. I was between Eclectic and the back of the Emporium, facing the Emporium.”
“What happened then?” Sam asked.
“The man came out of the Emporium’s back door, down the steps, and headed east up the path toward the Café.” Angela paused and took a sip of coffee.
“What did he look like?” I asked. She looked across at me.
“It all happened so quickly that I only had an impression of his face. He was tall, normal build, not overweight, and had a white or gray beard and mustache. He also wore glasses but I couldn’t tell you what kind. And he had a wide brimmed, dark Panama hat that was pulled down.”
“That’s a good description. Did you recognize him?” I asked.
Angela shook her head. “No. For the briefest of moments, I thought it was Peter because of the beard and the fact he was coming out of the Emporium. I almost called out to him. However, I realized it wasn’t Peter. The beard was too neat and the body type and walk were off. So I just watched him walk away.”
“Body type and walk?” Sam asked. Angela looked at him.
“The man was about the same height as Peter. But, Peter is bigger, has a barrel chest, and walks in a slow, deliberate way. Like…well, he’s older. Also, Peter’s beard is longer and kind of unruly, you know?” she asked. We both nodded. “Well this guy had more of a medium build with broad shoulders, wore a neat beard, and walked really fast. Like a younger man.”
“What was he wearing?” I asked.
Angela closed her eyes. “The hat I mentioned. Then he wore a long, dark, coat with the collar up. He was looking down. Let’s see. Dark gloves, dark pants, and a bag over his right shoulder. I don’t remember the shoes.” Her eyes opened. Angela looked tired.
“Any idea of what kind of bag it was?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t notice he was carrying it until he was some distance away.”
“Was the coat like a woolen dress coat or more like a parka?” I asked.
Angela’s eyes narrowed as she thought. “It could have been wool. It looked like a dress coat. It definitely wasn’t a parka-type coat.”
“Did his pants look like dress pants?” I asked.
Angela was surprised. “What?”
I rephrased the question. “Was he wearing suit pants?”
“Oh!” Angela closed her eyes again and after a few seconds popped them open. “I just can’t remember. I know he was dressed all in dark clothes.”
“Okay, good. What happened then?” I asked.
Angela took a deep breath and exhaled. “It was like being in slow motion. I watched him walk fast along the path past the Farmhouse Café. Then I looked at the back door, which was ajar, and I looked back at him. That’s when my brain started working and I tried to follow him.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
Angela scrunched up her face. “I don’t really know. It just didn’t feel right. I thought something might be off and wanted to see where he went. I jogged past the Café, up to Founders Road and looked over at the East Parking Lot. I couldn’t see him. Then I looked north and south and didn’t see him anywhere. He just vaporized.”
“So then you went to the Café?” I asked.
“First, I walked south along Founders Road to Bridge Road. I stood near the Saucy Shop but I still didn’t see him. By then I was chilled, so I went back to the Café. I wanted something hot to drink. Then it occurred to me he might have ducked into the Café before me. But he wasn’t in the large dining room and when I went to the small dining room, he wasn’t there either. So I sat down and ordered some hot chocolate to warm up.”
“The open Emporium back door?” Sam prompted.
“Totally forgot about it. By then I was starting to feel silly. It could have been a friend or salesman leaving out the back way and was just careless about the door.”
“Do you have an approximate time for when you saw the man?” Sam asked.
Angela smiled. “Exactly 4:54 p.m.”
“Great memory,” I said and took a big sip of coffee.
She shook her head. “Not really. I saw the time when I pressed the “stop” button on my watch. Also, the time was stored in the watch’s memory, so I could double check it later when the police asked.”
“Excellent,” said Sam and Angela smiled.
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“After a while, I heard sirens. When I left the Café, I saw the lights and commotion at the Emporium. I approached Matt Durand and asked if there’d been a break-in or something. He looked at me funny and I explained that I’d seen a strange man leaving the back of the
Emporium. He immediately brought me to a police car and took my statement”
I picked up my cellphone and carefully switched to a photo I had selected earlier. It was a close-up of Ben and Lilly. I handed the phone to Angela.
“Is there a chance this is the man you saw?” I asked and held my breath. She took a good long look at the screen and then shrugged.
“I couldn’t really tell you. Like I said, I saw his face for a split second and all that registered were the hat, beard, and glasses. We never made eye contact. The beard looks right, but I could never swear that this was the guy,” Angela said. She handed the phone back to me and I set it on the table.
“You’re a Village trustee?” I asked.
“Yes, I am,” Angela replied and sipped her coffee.
“Do you know Mark Sweet?” I asked.
“Mark Sweet? He’s spoken at the Village Board meeting many times. I can’t say I really know him, though. I heard he found the body, poor guy.”
I nodded. “He did. Do you think Sweet could have been the man you saw leaving the Emporium?”
Angela’s mouth tightened. “A Deputy Newmont contacted me yesterday and asked the same question. Is Mark Sweet a suspect?”
“It’s normal to ask questions about the person who found the body. Please don’t read anything into it,” Sam said and smiled. Angela summoned up a weak smile.
“I’ll tell you what I told the police. I couldn’t swear either way. It was a very fast encounter and the man kept his head down.”
I held up my phone with the photo of Ban and Lilly again. “Do you remember seeing this man at any of the Village Board meetings?” Angela leaned forward and stared at the photo again. Then she shook her head.
“It’s possible. He looks vaguely familiar, but it could be the beard and mustache. The woman looks familiar though.”
Sam chewed on his bottom lip. “So the man didn’t see you? You said before you didn’t make eye contact.”
“No. His eyes were down the entire time and he was moving fast. Looking back on it, I think he just wanted to get out of there.”
“Anything else you can add?” I asked.
“No, that’s pretty much it. I wish I had more information for you,” Angela replied and gave me a sad smile.