“Well, he says he’s positive it wasn’t a coincidence the food critic ended up dead outside Ava’s Java.”
Anita popped out of her seat and scampered to hover over Irma. “I hope he’s not blaming Ava. She doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Sorry to say he’s looking at Ava as a suspect. But there’s also that girl, Melanie. He doesn’t believe she is completely innocent.”
With fists planted on her hips, Anita played defense. “We all know it couldn’t be either one of them. They are nice people.”
Irma shrugged. “You might be right, but as Officer Farlow always says, you don’t know what a person is capable of, given the proper motivation.”
“I’ll never believe it of either of them. What else do you know?”
Irma shifted her head toward Anita, causing Stacey to fumble her comb. “The doc reported Gold was killed by repeated blows to the head. He said there was a sticky substance in the wounds.”
Stacey retrieved another comb from the drawer. “Ick. Something sticky besides blood?”
“He sent it to be tested, but figured it was cookie dough. So he says that might be the murder weapon. Isn’t that nuts?”
Stacey stopped trimming, and faced Irma. “Cookie dough? That’s crazy. How could anyone be hurt by cookie dough?”
Irma laughed. “Even Farlow didn’t believe that one. And he’ll fall for about anything. Those doctor types think just because they’ve been to medical school, they know everything. If you ask me, he’s educated beyond his intelligence.”
Stacy picked up a spray bottle and gave Irma’s hair a mist. “I’m glad to hear Jimmy is thinking for himself. But I don’t believe Ava would hurt anyone.”
“Hate to break it to you, but Ava looks like the culprit. I shouldn’t say anything, me being a city official, but it’ll be common knowledge soon. Ava changed her story when she went in to give her statement yesterday. Bet you didn’t know she was acquainted with the victim.”
Stacey dropped her shears. “What?”
Anita gaped. “No.”
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. Ava needed defending. “Ava was nervous and spoke without thinking when she denied knowing Gold. Then she was afraid to change her answer.”
Anita and Stacey pivoted in unison to glare at me. Stacey sputtered. “You knew about this?”
It took Anita a minute to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me, your friend and fellow detective?”
Crap. I was in trouble now. Anita looked stricken, as if I’d broken a sacred oath. Stacey might never talk to me again. And the way Irma squinted at me, I thought she’d be calling the authorities at any moment.
“Let me explain.” The three women focused on me. “When all members of the mentor group had left, except Rarity and me, I overheard a conversation between Ava and Konrad. I couldn’t repeat it, it was private. Do you understand?” I searched Anita’s face, who appeared to grasp my innocent intent. I averted my eyes from Stacey, who showed no sign of grace.
To Irma, I said, “Ava promised Konrad she would confess her mistake to Farlow, so I saw no reason to report it.
Anita twisted back to Irma. “I’m sure Ava had a good reason for what she did. We all know her like family. She’s lived here forever.”
Irma shrugged. “You think you know someone, but how well? Anyone can put up a good front. But one day that pretty facade slips to reveal the monster underneath.”
Stacey pressed her lips together and wrinkled her brow while she continued to trim Irma’s hair.
Irma went on. “Maybe you’re correct and Ava is okay, but what about that husband of hers? Does anyone really know him? I only met him when he started showing up at the weekly mentor meetings.” She glanced at Anita. “Did you ever meet him before that?”
Anita gave a small shake of her head. “No. But he’s a good man. Look how nice he’s been, watching the counter so we aren’t interrupted. He loves Ava, and he’s interested in the success of our mentor group.”
Irma raised an index finger. “I agree he loves Ava. To what lengths would he go if he thought someone was going to hurt his wife, or maybe write a bad review of her precious coffee shop?”
Anita ran both hands through her hair. “This is so distressing. I can’t believe Konrad would do that.”
Since my earlier outburst, I’d determined to stay in my chair and keep my mouth shut, but I wanted to defend Konrad, too. The door bells drew my attention, and I twisted to see Rarity coming through the front door. Saved from breaking Rarity’s no gossip rule, I spun my chair back to the desk.
Rarity’s auburn curls bounced as she strode past. “Hi Irma. I love the new short haircut. Pixie cuts are adorable.”
Irma glanced at her reflection in the mirror, and did a double-take.
It’s a good thing hair grows. Irma’s problem would solve itself in a couple of months. Would the murder be solved as easily?
Chapter Five
I don’t actually remember agreeing to this meeting.” I trailed Clair into Ava’s Java, still sleepy from being dragged out of bed earlier than I’d planned. Clair, an eternally early riser, assumed everyone followed her example.
“Of course you did. I said, ‘Mentor meeting in ten minutes.’ And you said, ‘Okay.’”
As I recalled it, after she banged on my door to get me up, she said ‘Get in your car and meet me at Ava’s Java.’ I was too groggy to resist, and knew there would be coffee.
Clair deposited her hand bag on the first table inside the door and pulled out her cell phone. “We have business to discuss.”
I silently thanked the Lord our meetings were held at Ava’s and directed my feet to the coffee counter where a full carafe was waiting.
Anita, Rarity and Patricia ambled in a minute later, smiles and attire suggesting they’d been up for hours.
Rarity said, “It’s wonderful we were all able to meet again.”
Clair shrugged. “Not everyone. Stacey and Irma didn’t answer their phones. I left each of them a message, but don’t see a reply.”
Patricia glanced at the table Ava had prepared for us. “What about Gloria, from the library? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“She’s been busy with some project, but I’m keeping her updated. So let’s get started. We haven’t much time to construct promotions for the Marshmallow Festival. Our meeting on Wednesday was a disappointment. We didn’t accomplish anything.”
Anita, who wasn’t one to roll her eyes, did. “Yes, wasn’t it inconvenient that a man died in Ava’s dumpster?”
Patricia picked up an empty mug from the counter and passed it to Anita. “I feel terrible about the death, too. But we business owners have to keep an eye on the bottom line. I, for one, depend on additional income from the festival.”
Clair grabbed the next mug. “That’s right. Since we haven’t had the festival in the last few years, it’s important we make this one a success. It benefits the whole town.”
I didn’t think I could develop interest in the bottom line until after my morning coffee, so I filled a cup with Ava’s Bombshell Blend, and moved to the side. With the first heartwarming sip, I glanced through the front door. “Oh crap. Look who’s coming.”
My friends pivoted to gaze through the window. Officers Farlow and Smith strode across the sidewalk, exuding a determined and authoritative air. Once inside, Farlow took up space directly in front of the coffee counter. “Everyone out. I’m shutting this place down until we search it.
Sometimes, or to be honest, many times, I forget to sort my thoughts before they shoot out of my mouth in verbal form. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re doing this today? What kind of police work is that? The crime scene is cold by now. It seems to me you should have done your search on the day of the crime, or the day after at the latest, when evidence was fresh. In all the books I’ve read, they….”
Farlow speared me with a gaze that caused the tirade to die in my throat. “We know what we’re doing, Halloren. We are the
police department and we are searching today. Interfere once more and you’ll find us searching your residence this afternoon.”
I scooted back a few inches. “My house? Why? I didn’t have anything to do with this.” Farlow continued to stare at me until I mumbled. “Ladies, I think we should find another place to meet this morning.”
Rarity didn’t intimidate so easily. “This is so inconvenient, Jimmy. How long will your business take?”
Farlow planted one hand on his holstered weapon. “It will take as long as it takes to do a thorough sweep of the place. And then, as long as it takes me to consider the evidence we collect.”
At Farlow’s signal, Amos Smith pulled the door open. My friends began to file out.
Ava lingered, wringing her hands. “Evidence? You aren’t going to find anything in my shop. I’ve told you everything.”
Farlow nailed her with his glare. “If you’re telling the truth—this time—our job should be easy. But understand this, the longer you stand there impeding my investigation, the longer this coffee shop will be shut down.”
I put an arm around Ava and walked with her to the sidewalk where the rest of the group congregated. For a large woman, Ava seemed particularly frail as she faced her friends. “I have an apology to make. You see, this is all my fault. When I went in to make my statement at the police station, I admitted, to the officer, I lied about knowing Giles Gold.
Struck speechless, Clair and Patricia swiveled in her direction.
Ava took a breath and spit out her explanation. “I met him once. That’s all. And I don’t know why I didn’t admit it the first time Officer Farlow asked. But the meeting with Giles was so brief, I forgot.”
She dipped her chin and shook her head slightly. “No. That’s not true. I didn’t forget. I’d never told Konrad about the incident. Thought he might be jealous.” Ava glanced at Rarity and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t tell the police in front of my husband, after having kept him in the dark.”
We all nodded our understanding. I couldn’t help but think of another of Aunt Ruth’s sayings. Something about a tangled web and deceit.
Ava seemed to take encouragement, and continued. “When the police left, I told him. Of course he insisted I confess to the authorities.”
Rarity hugged her. “Konrad is a good man. Was he angry?”
“Not at all. I’d been silly. He was sweet, and understanding.”
Patricia lowered her voice and leaned close to Ava. “Just how well did you know Gold? Um. In what sense?”
Ava didn’t make any attempt to lower her voice. “Not in any sense! I met him once at the convention. He seemed a bit forward, so I stayed away from the rest of his lectures. That was the end of it.”
Rarity cut in. “Come ladies. Let’s get off the sidewalk. We’ll have our meeting at The Rare Curl, since it’s right next door.”
Ava straightened her shoulders. “You all go ahead. I’ll stay here in case the officers need to talk to me. Maybe that will hurry things along. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t open for the lunch rush.”
She returned to the Java, while the rest of us trailed into the salon and took seats in the waiting room. I still cradled my mug of Ava’s Bombshell Blend, with only a tinge of guilt that no one else had thought to get theirs. But the guilt was enough to prompt me to get up and start the salon coffee pot brewing.
A soft brush on my ankle brought my attention to the purring fluff ball on the floor. Peering up at me were the golden eyes of my cat, Mason. I’m not sure I should call him mine. Mason was a willful animal who had pretty much forced his way into my home and my heart not long after I moved into the house I’d inherited from my aunt. “What are you doing here?”
He emitted a soft “Mew,” spun and leapt into an empty chair.
“Look. How did Mason know we’d be here? And he walked all the way.” Clair pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture. Then she scooted closer and leaned in to garner a selfie.
I eyed Clair. “Why would you take a selfie with my cat?”
“It’ll be great for my social media pages. I’ll call it ‘Cat Joins Mentor Group.’ Or ‘Feline Wisdom.’”
Patricia glared at Mason, and glanced up at Rarity. “What’s he doing here? Are animals allowed in beauty salons?” She examined her skirt and brushed off a few imaginary hairs.
Rarity smiled. “I love kitties. And isn’t he cute? I’d have a salon resident cat, if I could. Mason can stay until we open the salon for customers, then Lauren will take him home.”
Rarity filled Styrofoam cups with coffee and distributed them. When she came to me, with my mug from Ava’s, she raised her eyebrows and moved on. She said to the group, “I hope you like the coffee. It isn’t Ava’s Java, but it’s hot.”
I wrapped my hands around my mug filled with the best stimulant in northern Indiana, hoping to cover the insignia.
We’d taken our seats, waiting for the meeting to begin when the door jingled open and Irma trotted in carrying her own travel mug. “Hi groupies. Figured you’d be here. Amos informed me of the Java search. I delayed, so as not to be caught in the middle of it.”
Patricia’s mood hadn’t improved. “I think you could have let the rest of know. It was embarrassing. They walked in and evicted us.”
Irma took a seat. “If I had, I’d got myself fired. You know, I don’t talk about police business.”
Anita shifted her gaze to me and whispered. “Oh no. Never.”
Clair raised her voice above the chatter. “We’re running a little late, so let’s begin. What were we talking about at the last meeting, um, before we were interrupted?” This was Clair’s version of not being bossy. She already knew the answer and had the agenda in mind.
Patricia obliged. “As I recall, the last question was how we can get more visitors to town, now that we don’t have a celebrity judge.”
She scanned the group with a smile that lacked sincerity. “To some, the topic may not seem particularly important, but we business owners depend on the increased income of the festival. We’ve already spent money preparing for it, and now we don’t have a main attraction.”
Patricia stood and took on somber tone. “I think I speak for all of us in saying we’re all sorry that poor man turned up dead in the garbage bin. Maybe we’ll have some sort of memorial for him. We can talk about that later, but now let’s think about practical matters.”
Irma took a long and noisy slurp of coffee. “I’ll tell you a practical matter. There’s a killer on the loose and we don’t know who it is. Who do we trust? Hate to talk behind anyone’s back, but the police think it’s Ava, or Konrad, or that waitress, Melanie.”
She twisted to face me. “Which one do you see as a criminal type, Halloren?”
I choked on my coffee. After I finished coughing, I squeaked. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know anyone with a murderous personality. I’m not even sure what that would look like. Anyway, Farlow’s mistaken. Ava, Konrad, and Melanie are our friends. I think he will discover it’s some unknown person. Maybe a stranger from out of town.”
Irma chimed in. “That’s right. Gold was from New York. What if the killer followed him here?”
Anita stood at the coffee bar pouring sugar into her cup. “And what if he’s still in town? A homicidal maniac roaming the streets. Or a serial killer. Gang initiation? Do we have gangs in Evelynton?”
Rarity got up from her chair and stomped to the reception desk, where she used a hairbrush to rap on the glass top. The cat leapt from his chair, and everyone else gazed, with wide eyes, at the salon owner. “Ladies, we are here as the Mentor Group, and that requires helpful, encouraging, and constructive conversation. Let’s abide by my salon motto.” She pointed to the verse on the wall.
Mason peaked out from under a dryer chair. The rest of us quieted and looked sheepish. We spent the remainder of the hour discussing avenues of promotion for the Marshmallow Festival. Mostly Clair, Rarity, and Patricia discussed it. After which, they assign
ed us each a project to work on.
With that, the meeting was adjourned.
I’d leaned down to gather Mason from his hiding place when Anita snagged me. “I’ll walk you to your car.” She held the door as I juggled the squirming cat. “I’m sure you agree Farlow has made up his mind, and won’t investigate any further than Ava and Konrad. Or maybe Melanie. If we’re going to save them from being falsely accused, you and I have to do something. And if Clair can stop worrying about her social media pages long enough, I’m sure she’ll help.”
We crossed the parking lot to the Chrysler, and I deposited Mason on the front seat, where he sat up to look out the window.
Anita stood for a moment watching traffic on Main Street. “How could this happen? We grew up here. Roamed the streets and were never afraid.”
Shifting her gaze to me, Anita shook her head. “The atmosphere of our little town has changed. It’s as though a shadow has settled over it.”
We both shivered as a cloud chose that moment to blot out the sun.
Chapter Six
I replaced the receiver with relief. Nearly every phone call, this morning, had been legitimate. I actually did my job arranging hair appointments.
The front door swung open to the tune of jingling bells as Gladys, our cleaning lady clamored in. Her rolling mop bucket trailed behind her, piled high with mops and squeegees.
“Good morning, Lauren. I hoped you wouldn’t mind me being in this morning. With the festival coming up, I’ve been getting calls for extra cleaning. Thought I’d get your windows done while I had the chance.”
“Come on in. No one’s going to complain about clean windows.”
She leaned toward me as she unloaded her mops. “You were in the Java the other day when they found the dead guy, weren’t you?”
“Yes. Well, sort of. I missed the big event. Got there right after.” I didn’t need to explain. She wasn’t listening.
Gladys shook her head and squirted cleaning fluid into the bucket. “It’s a terrible thing, leaving someone’s body in a dumpster. It’s disgraceful the way people behave. I can’t believe all the crime in the world today.”
Caffeinated Murder Page 3