News and Nachos

by Carly Winter

  "Let's start with a little background on you," Harold said, his pen poised above his paper.

  As Sheriff Connor droned on about how he'd grown up in the Tri-Town area and how much he loved it and wanted to dedicate his life to the people, relief swept through me that I didn't have to do the interview alone. Last time I'd sat down to talk to the sheriff, he'd accused me of murder, called me names, made me feel incompetent and foolish, and told me I was stupid.

  But now the blowhard was in my territory, and I had some questions.

  "We have another murder in the Tri-Town area," I began. "The second one in six months after going a decade without one. Why do you think that is?"

  "I don't know. Maybe we've had some unsavory characters move in over the past couple of years."

  With me relocating with my ex-husband just over three years ago, I had a feeling that jab may be directed at me, but I decided to ignore it.

  "How's the investigation going?" I asked. "Are you any closer to finding a suspect?"

  "Oh, yes. We've got one in particular who looks interesting."

  "And do you know what kind of poison was used to kill Mr. Martinez?"

  "We're waiting for final testing to come in, but we'll nab her. We've almost got all the evidence we need to arrest her. I've got my best men on the case."

  I bit my lip and tried to remain professional, and it wasn't easy. "Is the 'she' you're referring to Carla Marker?"

  Sheriff Connor smiled at me, but then said, "No comment."

  In my book, I had hit the nail on the head.

  "You know she didn't do it and you're barking up the wrong tree, don't you?" I asked.

  "Actually, no. I think we are definitely at the right tree."

  "Based on what?" I asked. "Based on the fact she had a fight with Jake?"

  "We actually have a lot of evidence against her," Connor said, his face turning red.

  "Like what?"

  "It's none of your damned business, Matilda!" he shouted as he shot to his feet. "You keep your nose out of this murder investigation. Do you understand me?"

  I stared at him for a beat and shook my head. "Have you even bothered to question Jake's daughter? Or her boyfriend? Do you even know who she's dating? Do you know that there's been trouble between the three of them?"

  A flicker of doubt crossed his face, and I had my answer. He was zoned in on Carla and he wasn't willing to look anywhere else. The so-called evidence he had on her was enough for him.

  "Are we done here, Harold?" the sheriff grumbled.

  "Yes, sir. I believe we are."

  When the door shut, Harold glanced over at me and shook his head. "You have to let the case play out, Tilly. You can't nose around in police business."

  "I know that," I said, getting to my feet.

  But that was exactly what I intended to do.

  7

  The sheriff's visit had only dampened my mood further. I marched over to Debbie's ready to dive headfirst into a plate of donuts and eat away my anger, which the man had caused, and also the fury brewing from my actions with Derek the previous evening.

  I walked in and Debbie waved, but her smiled quickly faded and she shook her head. She could see my mood had gone south. After pointing to a table, she went back to helping the customers. When everyone had been taken care of, she came over with two coffee cups.

  "Did you want anything else?" she asked.

  "One of your crème donuts would be great."

  She ran her hand through her spiky red hair before meeting my gaze. "As your friend, I'm going to remind you that you asked me to keep you away from sugar, but if you want one, I'll go get it."

  I sighed as I stirred cream in my cup. I'd lost so much weight just by cutting out all the sugar, and I shouldn't start eating it now. No more emotional eating. I only wished I could be like Debbie, who owned the bakery and ate whatever she wanted and still remained rail-thin.

  "You're right. I don't want it."

  “Can I offer you a sugar free pastry?” Debbie asked. “I just took some chocolate donuts out of the oven.”

  “No. Not now. But thanks.”

  "Okay then. What's got you madder than a wet cat?"

  I leaned over the table and whispered, "We've got to figure out who killed Jake Martinez, Debbie."

  "Why? Isn't that what the police are for?"

  "Sheriff Connor was just in our office. He's not looking anywhere but at Carla. I was right. He wants to clear the murder before the election comes up."

  "Did he actually say that?" Debbie asked as her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

  "Not those exact words, but he said they were waiting for final testing to come back and they had all the evidence they needed to put her away."

  "Did you ask if he was talking about Carla?"

  "Yep."

  "And?"

  "And he gave me that smug smile that makes me want to punch him in his condescending face and said, no comment."

  Debbie took a long sip of her coffee, then set her cup down. I swear she ran on caffeine and sugar. "That doesn't mean anything, Tilly."

  "You'd agree with me if you saw him answer," I said, rolling my eyes. "Believe me, I know. He's going after Carla."

  "Okay, so let's pretend you're right. What should we do?"

  "I need you to do what you do best: ask questions, gossip and gather information. Everyone talks to you. Listen to what people are saying."

  Debbie nodded and glanced around the store once more, checking on her customers. "I do that all day long."

  "I know. Just listen for anything that may connect anyone but Carla to the murder."

  "Looks like the sheriff is coming in here," she murmured as she rose from the table. "Don’t move, Tilly. The last thing we need is a confrontation between the two of you. I'll be right back. He never stays to chat."

  I turned to see the man out on the sidewalk talking to someone, then enter the store. He said hello to a few of the patrons while he shook hands. If there had been any babies, he'd have kissed their foreheads. He glanced over at me but didn't approach. I'd been raised to respect authority, but the man had tried to pin a murder on me, and now he had my friend in his sights. My grin widened as his smile faded. I imagined he thought of me as the bee that wouldn't go away, always buzzing around in his peripheral vision.

  I had every intention of stinging him.

  After Debbie made small talk and gave him his coffee, he left and she returned to the table.

  "He's out trying to get re-elected, not solve a murder," she said.

  "I told you. He says he's got his best men on the case."

  Debbie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Does he mean Byron? If so, we're all in a heap of trouble. Byron couldn't find someone's finger if it was poking him in the eye."

  A giggle escaped me, and my heavy mood lightened just a bit. It felt good to laugh. I could always count on Debbie.

  I glanced at my watch. The morning had quickly turned into the afternoon and I really had to get my butt in gear. Harold would be gnashing his teeth looking for articles on the murder.

  "I need to get back to the office," I said with a sigh.

  "Don't worry about getting information," Debbie said as she patted my hand. "I'll keep my ears open and report back whenever I hear something interesting. We'll get Carla out of this mess, I can promise you that. We've caught one killer, and there's no reason why we can't catch a second."

  When I walked outside, the sheriff was standing on the sidewalk across the street shaking hands with people coming out of the hardware store. He didn't care who committed the murder as long as he remained sheriff, and that didn't bode well for Carla.

  I finished my day with a master plan in place of interviews that I needed to get. First up would be Sophia, Jake's daughter. With a little help from Google, I found her address within seconds and decided the best way to approach her was without an appointment. I didn't want her to know I would be coming.

  As I drove home, my palms began to sweat and
my heart thundered. I really didn't want to talk to Derek, but I felt so awful for scampering away like a deer caught in the headlights. I had to explain myself.

  While passing his house, I saw him out back talking to Minnie. Apparently, her stupid cows, Tulip and Sunflower, had gotten loose again and meandered over to Derek's yard. The cows escaped a lot less with the Ruperts gone, but they still had skills to rival Houdini.

  Unbelievably, Mrs. Rupert had kept loosening the fence in hopes the cows would destroy their orchard. When they hadn't, she'd started the fire. Since then, it had occurred to me that maybe Minnie helped them get loose just so she had an excuse to visit her neighbors.

  I pulled up in front of my house and Tinker bounded around the corner, going as fast as her legs could carry her, and I braced for impact. She leapt at me, and as she landed against my chest, I lost my balance. I quickly met the ground with a thud.

  The breath left me in one whoosh and Tinker licked my face. Pain radiated from my pelvis and up my back. One of these days, I was going to break my tailbone. After a moment, I was able to sit up.

  "Tinker, you know better than that," I said as I stroked her brow. "Seriously. I'm getting too old for this."

  I slowly staggered to my feet and took a couple of steps. Tinker whined and nudged my hand with her snout, which was her way of apologizing.

  "Just don't do it again," I muttered.

  Before I went into the house, I glanced over at Derek's. He and Minnie still stood in his yard, chatting away. Derek waved and as I raised my hand, I realized it was bleeding and I had rocks embedded in my palm.

  With a sigh, I opened the front door and headed into the kitchen to clean my hand and take some pain relievers for my back. An hour later, I sat on the couch sandwiched between Tinker and Belle watching re-runs of Friends while drinking hot tea.

  "It's going to be an early one for me tonight, girls," I said with a yawn. "Mama is going to get really busy the next couple of weeks and I need my rest."

  But yet, I couldn't bring myself to actually head up the stairs. Instead, I had to deal with Derek or I'd never get any sleep.

  I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and typed a quick text, then set it back down. My concentration on the show had left the building the minute I hit send, but thankfully, I knew Ross and Rachel were on a break and how the episode ended.

  When a knock sounded at the front door, I sighed and stood, then walked over to it. The pain reliever had helped, but I still had some aches in my back end.

  I opened the door. Derek stood on my porch wrapped in a thick jacket, his teeth chattering while the wind blew.

  "Hi," I said, wishing I had some sparkling conversation to open with.

  "Can I come in? It's freezing out here."

  "Yes. Sorry. Of course."

  He followed me into the kitchen and took off his jacket, then hung it over the back of one of the chairs.

  "Do you want some tea?" I asked.

  "No, thanks. What's up?"

  The dynamic between us had shifted. There used to be a certain electricity that sizzled just beneath the surface and it was no longer there. Nor was the sparkle in his eye as he stared at me expectantly, or the little smile that gave me goosebumps.

  "I'm sorry I didn't come see you and that I asked you to come here,” I said.

  "It's fine, Tilly. I actually have plans for the evening, so I can't stay long. What do you need?"

  Plans. He had plans that didn't involve me. And why should they after the way I’d bolted? I'd been so immature—creeping up on forty years of age and I acted like a teen.

  "I don't want to keep you if you have plans," I said. "I can talk to you tomorrow."

  Derek rolled his eyes and sat down at the kitchen table. "Tilly, I walked over here because you asked me to, and now you're basically telling me to leave. That seems a little ridiculous, don't you think?"

  "Yes," I said with a sigh as I gingerly sat down across from him. "It's just downright stupid. I need to talk to you."

  "Okay. Go ahead and talk."

  My cheeks burned with embarrassment and my words tripped up on my tongue. I tried to find a way to be eloquent, but it wouldn't happen.

  "When I was married before and Tommy left me, it was completely awful and destroyed my self-esteem," I blurted. “I thought our relationship was solid. I thought we would be together forever. I never even saw the problems coming until one day, he came home, and instead of eating the meatloaf I made, he told me he was leaving me for a waitress in Little River. Can you imagine that? I was looking forward to a nice dinner and watching some television, and instead, my husband moved out. And to make everything twice as bad, he’d gotten her pregnant.”

  “Tilly, I—”

  “Here’s the thing, Derek.” I interrupted, unable to meet his gaze or stop my stream of thought. “I'm feeling better about myself, but I'm still scared of getting hurt. When you said you wanted to date me, I told you I needed to take it slow. And we have. But you freaked me out last night when you said you wanted me to kiss you."

  "You did bolt from the car pretty quick."

  "I know, and I'm embarrassed about that. I just wanted to let you know that my hesitancy doesn't have anything to do with you. It's me. It's up here."

  As I tapped my head, I glanced up at him. Relief flood through me when I saw his features had softened.

  "I'm sorry he did that to you," he said, his voice quiet. "But I'm not him, Tilly. I like you. A lot. I love spending time with you. Sometimes I want to kiss you so bad, my chest hurts."

  He stood and rounded the table. After taking my hand in his, he pulled me to my feet. I winced as pain shot through my back.

  "What happened?" he asked.

  "Tinker got a little too enthusiastic when she greeted me tonight. I ended up flat on my back in the driveway."

  He chuckled as he ran his palm down my cheek. "You sure you're okay?"

  "Yes."

  Good Lord above, my heart felt like it would beat out the front of my chest. We stood inches apart, and I knew what came next.

  "Can I kiss you Tilly?"

  His breath whispered across my face, the scent of mints engulfing me. I stood on the proverbial precipice of a tall cliff, and my answer would send me sailing into the unknown. My whole body trembled with excitement and terror.

  I had to trust Derek with my heart and hope that he was different from what Tommy had been.

  "Yes," I whispered. “But just so you know, I don’t make meatloaf anymore.”

  8

  Thank goodness for Google Maps. If I had been looking for Sophia Martinez's house before technology, I never would have found it. She and Jake lived deep in the forest down a bumpy dirt road. Color me surprised when Big Foot didn't dart out in front of my car.

  I listened to the directions my phone gave—thankful it still worked out in the middle of nowhere—but my mind was set firmly on that wonderful kiss Derek had laid on me the previous evening. Soft, yet passionate, it left me wanting more. However, that wasn't meant to be the previous night as he was meeting a friend down at the bar and couldn't back out. I felt much more secure since laying out my fears to him, and I looked forward to seeing where our relationship led. I didn't want to fight my attraction to him any longer.

  As I pulled up in front of the brown house with blue trim, I glanced around the area. It was as if they'd cleared a few trees and dropped the building. Located between Cedarville and Little River, which was the north point of the Tri-Town area, I imagined they got quite a bit of snow during the winter. The road would be horrible unless they had it plowed. Even then, it would be a muddy mess.

  "At least I don't have to deal with it," I muttered as I exited my truck and walked up to the front door.

  I had two goals for my visit: Yes, I needed to write some articles for work, but I was also terribly curious about José's threats to Jake. Could he have killed for love? Or worse, could Sophia? We needed to find someone else for the sheriff to focus on besides Carla.
I had no intention of throwing anyone under the bus, but José's threats had to be investigated.

  I knocked, but no one answered. The wind rustled through the pines as I glanced around. Honestly, the house reminded me of something out of a horror movie. Even more isolated and quiet than my own, it gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  After pounding on the door again, I heard footsteps, then Sophia opened the panel.

  "Hi!" she said, her brown eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

  Her long, black hair had been pulled up into a bun and she wore sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  "Hey, Sophia. My name's Tilly Bordeaux. I helped you out at the restaurant the other night."

  "I remember."

  "Well, I'm also the reporter for the Tri-Town Times, and I was wondering if I could take a few minutes of your time. I'd like to write an article on your dad and the history of Martinez's Mexican Fiesta."

  She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me. "I... I guess so."

  I stepped inside and she motioned me to the right. The hallway opened up into a living room decorated in seafoam green and yellow. The furniture, littered with cardboard boxes, seemed fairly new. A kitchen sat to the left with bright, shiny stainless steel appliances. I'd considered changing out my appliances when I redid my house a few months ago, and the stainless steel had been incredibly expensive. The ones in the Martinez house also appeared very new.

  "Have a seat," she said, removing a couple of the boxes. We sat on the same couch, her on one end and me on the other. I twisted my body to face her.

  "Are you moving?" I asked, motioning to the boxes.

  "No. Just packing away some things. My dad's stuff."

  She certainly wasn't wasting any time. It had been a little more than a week since the murder. Perhaps she felt out of sight, out of mind was the way to go.

  "Your house is really nice," I said, glancing around. "The kitchen is really pretty. I love the appliances."