It seemed to reflect the way all of us were feeling at the moment.
Mayor Gillespie asked for his breakfast to go. He seemed distracted, even a bit lost. Then he asked if we could deliver some muffins to his office around ten that morning. He had an interview with one of the news affiliates and thought maybe he should serve refreshments. It was obvious he’d not been in a situation like this before and he didn’t like it one bit.
I promised him I’d deliver them myself.
Vic came in and sat in a booth with some people I didn’t recognize. I assumed they were newspaper people. They sat with their heads together discussing something of importance. When I approached to take their order, the conversation ended abruptly and all of them sat up very straight and still.
Tucker arrived, seeming as distracted as Mayor Gillespie. This incident wasn’t only affecting my diner, it was affecting my friends and neighbors—the whole town. The only ones who seemed to thrive on this was Vic and the news people.
Oh, and the Lord sisters and Tiffany Samples. They were laughing and giggling like school girls over something. It seemed so out of place that I wished they would hurry up and leave.
“At least the hang up calls have slowed down,” Poppy was telling Tucker when I approached.
“That’s good,” he said, digging into his stack of pancakes. “I was worried about you ladies there for a bit.”
“Would you check on Mayor Gillespie later?” I asked. “I think he’s kind of upset about this interview this morning.”
“I was planning on doing that,” Tucker said. “I think Vic is going to be there with him just in case.” He glanced at the booth where she sat with the other reporters.
“Seems like she’s handling things pretty well,” Poppy said.
“Yeah, we’re lucky to have someone with experience in this kind of celebrity thing,” Tucker agreed.
I was barely listening. The bells tinkled over the door and I turned to see Herb Fleming enter the diner along with a pale, thin young woman. He hesitated just inside the door when he saw the crowd but then continued on into the diner, his hand at the small of her back as if she might bolt. A hush spread across the room. All heads turned toward Herb and his companion who kept her head down, her solemn gaze glued to the floor, following him almost blindly.
I grabbed a menu, some silverware and silently directed him to an unoccupied booth toward the back of the dining room. He guided the woman to sit and she perched on the edge of the seat, looking so fragile I thought she might break if someone touched her. He took the seat across from her and smiled his thanks at my help.
“Coffee,” he said, ordering for both of them.
“Who is that?” Poppy whispered while I filled their cups.
“The man is Herb Fleming. He was Jimmy’s private chef,” I told her. “I don’t know for sure, but I think the lady is Jimmy’s widow.”
It wasn’t until I returned to the table with their coffee, creamer and sugar when I saw the raw emotion on her tear stained face that confirmed my guess.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more broken woman in my life. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and my heart broke in two for her. I longed to comfort her somehow. If she was truly as broken hearted as she looked, I doubted she’d ever get over losing her husband. Thank goodness the reporters hadn’t jumped her like a flock of buzzards. But maybe they hadn’t guessed who she was yet. Then I wondered, why was Fleming escorting her to breakfast instead of Withrow? If he and Jimmy were as close as I’d heard, shouldn’t he be here trying to make this easier for her?
No, Withrow had been against the marriage to begin with. She was just another person between him and Jimmy.
“Are you ready to order now or do you need a minute?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed.
Fleming looked at her. She shook her head and shrugged and I had the feeling she didn’t care what she ate for breakfast that morning, or ever again for that matter.
“How about a veggie omelet,” Fleming suggested.
Again the shrug, reaching for her cup with thin, shaking fingers.
He nodded to me and I jotted it down on my pad. I didn’t have the heart to ask if there was anything else but hurried away to place their order.
“Jimmy’s widow?” Tucker asked when I turned to him.
I nodded. “She must be devastated.”
“She’s with his cook. Fleming is his name,” Tucker told me.
I wasn’t about to tell him that I already knew that.
“I hear there’s some hard feelings between her and Withrow,” Tucker said. “He fought hard against that marriage and isn’t afraid to talk about it. Said he knew she was after nothing but Jimmy’s money and tried to tell the old man. But Jimmy held his ground.”
I wasn’t about to tell him I’d already heard that, too. Instead, I said, “Good for Jimmy. Because from the looks of her right now, Davis was dead wrong.”
The phone rang. Poppy answered, listened for a moment and then hung up, glancing at me.
Across the diner, I saw Tiffany Samples with her phone in her hand. Were they the ones making the crank calls? Spreading the rumor about Jimmy being dead because I accidentally put peanuts in his pie? Stirring up trouble like a bunch of teenagers? Suddenly, I was so tired of all of this misery, I wanted to scream.
All in all, it was a miserable morning. The storm that had been threatening remained out over the mountains, making it even more humid, hot and sticky. Poppy suggested we skip our morning walk and I couldn’t blame her. When I followed her out to her car, it felt like stepping into a warm, wet blanket.
“It feels like our town is full of strangers,” she said, opening her car door.
“I know.”
“I can’t even imagine the pain Jimmy’s widow is going through right now. If I lost Tom.” She shuddered and shook her head.
“I wonder if she’s staying in his tour bus?” I asked, thinking maybe I’d go see her, maybe bring her a nice salad or something later in the day.
“We could find out,” Poppy said, as if she’d read my thoughts.
“I mean, it’s not really a crime scene but Tucker might want to keep as much traffic out of it as possible,” I said, still thinking aloud.
“The only other place would be The Liberty,” she said. “Oh, that reminds me. Kat Stinson called this morning.”
I nodded. I’d forgotten all about talking to her.
“She called wanting to talk to us about sending over an order of muffins and pastries every morning. I forgot to tell you.”
I laughed. “Well, we’ve been a little distracted. She and I talked about it, too, but we didn’t set up anything official.”
“Let’s go back inside and call her. Maybe we can find out if his widow is staying there instead of the tour bus,” Poppy said, closing the car door.
We went back inside and I stopped to look around the nearly empty dining room. Barbara Ellen was talking to an older couple over near the window. A few of the farmers were lingering over their coffee and someone had just come in and taken a seat at the counter.
“Let me help Barbara Ellen out and take care of the one at the counter,” I whispered to Poppy.
She nodded and headed toward our office.
The man ordered coffee, a BLT, chips and a pickle.
As I placed his order, I spotted Davis Withrow sitting alone in the same booth Fleming and Caroline Bones had occupied that morning. He was on his phone, furiously taking notes on a pad. Every once in a while he would nod and then say something and then write something else down.
And then I saw him throw his head back and laugh.
Laugh.
How could he be laughing when a man, supposedly his best friend, had just died?
Chapter Fourteen
Unable to watch him another moment, I went back to the office where Poppy was just placing the call to Kat.
She answered on the first ring, her voice chipper, happy, welcoming. “The Liberty Hotel and Eve
nt Venue.”
“Hey, Kat, it’s Starla,” I said. “You’re on speaker with me and Poppy.”
“Hey, girls. Do you want to get together to talk about the pastries and baked goods or can we just do this over the phone?” she asked.
I chuckled. Nothing like getting right down to business, but I understood that she was busy. At least someone was profiting from all the people in town.
“Basically, we just need to know what you had in mind and then give us a few days to get ourselves together to figure out how we’re going to make this work,” Poppy said, glancing at me. “We’ll have to get someone to come in and do some extra baking.”
“Oh, I understand completely,” Kat said and there was that happy laugh that made me and Poppy smile. “We don’t technically serve breakfast here. I mean we have a banquet room but we don’t really serve meals. Anyway, if we had some of your baked goods in the lobby, it would help us tremendously. We’re getting some, um ‘suggestions’ from our guests.
“I think it’s a great idea,” I told her.
“Of course, I’d let everyone know where they came from,” she rambled on, thinking aloud.
I was already working on the logistics of how we were going to make this happen in my head. Poppy was crunching numbers on a piece of paper she’d torn out of a legal pad. It only took us a few minutes to work out the details. We discussed that, Kat asked for a few minor adjustments and we quickly came up with a good, solid plan.
“When can we get started?” she asked. “I’m getting kind of desperate here.”
“Are you really that busy?” I asked.
“Yep. All of the out of town news people are staying here, Jimmy’s road crew, band and security are here.”
“Fleming?” I asked.
“Absolutely and this morning, Caroline Bones checked in,” she told me.
“Jimmy’s widow?”
“Yep. Poor thing, just breaks my heart every time I see her.”
“Us, too,” I said. “We were wondering if she was staying on his bus or—”
“I went upstairs with her and she told me Withrow told her his tour bus was off limits,” she said.
I wasn’t surprised to hear that. Poppy and I exchanged glances.
“Anyway, I gave her the best room we had, a suite on the top floor. Supposedly Ulysses S Grant and his wife spent the night there in 1869.”
Hearing that information from Kat didn’t surprise me. She was always interested in local history and this renovation was right up her alley. Poppy got my attention, held up a finger and then dashed out of the office.
I nodded and continued talking to Kat. “Thanks for taking good care of her,” I said, not knowing why but feeling an attachment to the young woman. “She was in here for breakfast this morning and looked like she was just barely functioning.”
“That’s exactly what I thought when I saw her come in with that Fleming guy. I know there are a lot of decisions to be made pretty quickly but, Starla, I don’t think she’s capable of anything right now.”
I had to agree but I wondered why Fleming was taking such good care of her. Did Withrow really dislike her that much? Maybe she and Fleming had bonded over something or other. Their love for Jimmy?
Poppy returned. “Kat, I just checked and I think we can put together a small order for you in the morning. Why don’t you send someone over about six to pick it up.”
“Oh, bless your heart,” Kat said, sounding relieved. “Listen, ladies, we are going to have to get together for drinks or something as soon as things slow down a bit.”
“Absolutely,” Poppy said.
“We’ll all need some time off by then,” I agreed.
“You can say that again,” Kat said.
We ended the call and then Poppy stood, stretched and yawned. “And right now, I need to go home for a nap.”
“You deserve it,” I said. “Skidaddle. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I returned to the dining room to find that the only customers remaining was the older couple over by the window. Barbara Ellen was trying to convince me to go upstairs and take a nap when Herb Fleming entered the diner. His t-shirt was so white it nearly glowed and contrasted vividly with his tanned skin and those tattoos.
“How is Caroline?” I asked, when he took a seat at the counter.
He shook his head. “Not good.”
“I’m going to see her later, take her a salad or something,” I told him.
“She’d like that,” he smiled a sad little smile. “The press doesn’t seem to be interested in her at all which is good. I don’t think she could handle that swarm right now.”
I nodded, agreeing with him.
“There’s a rumor that they’re going to start letting Jimmy’s band and the roadies leave town. Caroline asked me to stay with her until they released his body and she could take him home,” he said.
“So the two of you are close,” I said, thinking that Caroline needed a friend right now.
Fleming leaned close. “I’m going to be honest with you, Jimmy rescued Caroline just like he did me. I’m pretty sure Withrow is going to make sure she ends up with nothing.”
My heart broke all over again.
“Anyway, I just hope they release his body soon so we can get out of town,” Herb said, not sounding like himself at all.
I must have looked surprised because he quickly added.
“No offense to you or your little town, but I’ve had a little bit too many brushes with the law here. I just got off of probation and it, well, it makes me nervous.”
That was understandable.
After Herb left, I put together a pretty salad with broiled chicken, brightly colored veggies and some of Pickle’s delicious dinner rolls. Grabbing a jug of sweet tea, I headed for the American Hotel. As I approached the stately brick building on the other end of the Wharf, I realized that from this side you could see all three floors.
The balconies of the third floor suites opened out into the courtyard and I stepped around there to take a look. I tried to imagine Ulysses S Grant and his wife standing on one of those balconies listening to a band of traveling musicians from the area.
The courtyard was landscaped with some statues, stone benches and shrubbery. It felt like you’d stepped into another world. Because the hotel was built on a hill (isn’t everything in Sugar Hill?), the first floor wasn’t visible from this side. The balconies were just about eight or ten feet off the ground with a thick row of hedges blocking the windows of the bottom floor.
Back around the front of the building, I stepped through the heavy double doors. Heavy with ornate carving in the wood, they had to be original to the building. The scene in the lobby nearly took my breath away. It was like stepping back in time and yet not that at all. A pleasing mixture of very old, stately gold brocades at the windows alongside much more modern furniture and décor met my gaze.
“Starla!” Kat stepped out of what appeared to be her office off to the right. And she looked nothing like I remembered her from school. Oh, she still had that curly blonde hair, the sweet heart-shaped face but the rest of her looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine.
I felt downright frumpy so I stood up a little bit straighter and ran my fingers through my hair.
“You look amazing,” she said, hugging me.
“Thank you. You do, too. And, Kat, this place is gorgeous. I’m sorry I haven’t been down to see it sooner,” I said.
“I am so proud of the way it’s all coming together. A lot of hard work and money but it’s been my dream since forever,” she confessed.
Tucking her arm in mine, she led me through an arched doorway into what appeared to be a large banquet room. The décor was different in here. Some of the chipped, faded brick wall showed through plaster, and high ceilings with exposed beams and then elegant chandeliers soared overhead.
“It’s just beautiful,” I told her.
“I’m just getting it up and running but we have weddings bo
oked for every weekend for the rest of the year. I’m so happy about that,” she giggled.
That girlish giggle hadn’t changed a bit.
She seemed to notice that I was carrying a basket for the first time and gave me a quizzical look.
“It’s a salad and rolls for Caroline Bones,” I explained.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize...”
“No, it’s fine,” I assured her. “I’ve been wanting to see what you’ve accomplished. It’s just amazing.”
“Thank you. I can walk you to her room if you’d like,” she offered.
“That would be great,” I said.
She opened a door off the banquet room and led me down a short hall with an elevator at the end. Along the way she pointed out meeting rooms that weren’t quite ready yet and another, smaller banquet room.
The elevator was just as elegant as I imagined it would be, paneled in gleaming dark wood. Kat pushed a button taking us to the third floor.
“There are only three suites on the third floor,” Kat explained. “Some reporters are using one so I put Caroline at the one on the opposite end. If they know she’s staying here, they’re keeping their distance. If not, I’d like to keep that a secret as long as I can.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “The last thing she needs right now is being hounded by reporters.”
When we reached the ornate door, Kat gave my arm a squeeze and turned to go. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said over her shoulder.
My cell chimed. I ignored it.
I knocked lightly on the door, waited a few moments and then knocked a little louder. I was just about to knock again when I heard rustling and the door being unlocked.
It opened a crack. “Can I help you?”
All I could see was one blue eye and an ear with a diamond glittering in it like a star.
“Mrs. Bones, Caroline, it’s me, Starla from the diner.” I held up the basket so she could see it. “You didn’t eat much breakfast so I thought I’d bring you a light lunch,” I said, softly.
She didn’t respond.
“To keep you from having to go out again,” I explained.
A little sigh reached my ears and the door opened just wide enough to allow me to enter. The suite was as elegant as the rest of the hotel, maybe even more so, but what caught and held my attention was Caroline herself. She looked like a ghost, pale and even more distraught than she had that morning at the diner if that was possible. Her jeans and sleeveless sweater hung on her thin frame and the look in her eyes was that of a woman who had lost the most important thing to her.
Peanut Butter Pies & Dangerous Lies Page 11