“Fire away.” Brittany pops her gum. “Actually, that’s probably a dumb thing to say to someone who carries a gun.”
Ben chuckles. “Hi, Brittany. Do you know when Max left the house on the morning of the show?”
“Not exactly. But it was probably around eleven fifteen. I walked with him to the diner, and then I went to Raphe’s house.”
Ben asks, “How did Max seem? Nervous about the show or anything?”
I don’t know about my dad, but I’m nervous about these questions.
Brittany says, “He seemed normal.”
“Okay,” Ben adds a note on his cell. “What did you two talk about on the way?”
“About Raphe and me. Max said he’d noticed I’d been off and asked what was wrong. Max helped me with the problem I was having.”
I pull the phone closer. “What problem?”
“Relationship stuff.” Brittany sighs. “I needed a male opinion.”
I’m sort of hurt Brittany didn’t ask me. But for her to ask my dad for advice, the king of bad relationships, sends my antennae on full alert. A sudden thought hits, and I say, “Was Raphe pressuring you into doing something you certainly aren’t ready for at fifteen?” My voice has risen two decibels. I need to calm down.
“No pressure. But you know. I could tell it might be a thing. So Max told me what to do.”
“What did he tell you?” I bark into the phone. Who knows what my father said, but I’m pretty sure it needs correcting.
Ben clears his throat. “Maybe you two can discuss that later?”
I want to tell Ben he has no idea how important this is, but then, he’s trying to solve a murder. “Sorry.” I hold the phone toward him again.
“Thank you.” Ben leans near the phone and says, “Brittany, did you see Max go into the diner?”
“Yeah. He sat with Tina in the first booth right by the window. I waved as I passed by. Max said he’d offered to buy lunch for you too, Sawyer, for helping with the show, but you told him—”
“Yep.” I quickly add, “I was mad at him for guilting me into helping him.” I force a smile at Ben. “It wasn’t worth repeating.”
“Okay.” Ben tries to suppress a grin. “Thank you, Brittany, that helps us a lot. Dylan might call you later if we need anything else.”
“He’s already calling me later. He texted earlier and asked if we could talk at three.”
I open my mouth to ask what about, but Ben holds up a hand to stop me. He says, “Thank you, Brittany. Take care.”
“’Kay. Bye.” She disconnects the call, clearly not interested in finishing our conversation.
I ask Ben, “What did that tell you?”
“I’m not allowed to discuss it. Dylan’s direct orders.” Ben tucks his phone away and stands. “But the next time you go to the diner, look around a bit. They’ve added something new. See you later, Sawyer.” Ben turns and heads out the door.
I look at Cooper and ask, “Should I call Brittany back or go see what’s new at the diner?” I’m dying to do both, but at the same time dreading the delicate conversation with Brittany.
Cooper raises his brows in a are you seriously even asking way.
“Right. Brittany first, then the diner.” I dial Brittany’s number. I need to get brave and do this, but kids should really come with a manual.
Brittany answers with “Before you lose it, nothing happened with Raphe. I was asking Max questions because I wasn’t sure what boys expect.”
That’s a relief. And understandable. Brittany’s examples with men and her mom aren’t the best. “What did Max say?”
“He said it didn’t matter what boys want or ask for. The only thing that matters is what I want. Then he said some gooey stuff about how smart I am, so I should trust my instincts. And when I find someone who can respect that about me, I’ll have met the right one.”
“Oh.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “That’s good advice. Except he forgot to add the part about how that right one won’t show up until you’re way out of college.”
Brittany laughs. “He said something like that too. But then I pointed out you met Dylan in high school.”
Great. Brittany has become a master debater.
“What did Max say to that?” I’m not sure I want to hear this part. My dad never lets an opportunity pass to poke at Dylan.
“That you and Dylan both needed to grow into yourselves before you were the right ones for the other. And now that you are, it’s a good example of why one should always leave a relationship in a respectful and honorable way.”
Wow. I can’t believe what my father said about Dylan. I’ll have to tell him later. “So, did Max’s advice help with Raphe?”
“Yeah. We’re good. How about you and Dylan?”
I wish I knew. “I’ll let you know after Tina’s murder is solved. Did Dylan say what he wanted to talk with you about at three?”
“Nope. Just that it was something he needs to ask me before I start school on Monday. He said he preferred to do it on the phone.”
“Maybe more questions about Max. Might not count as official without speaking directly to you or something.”
“Probably.” Brittany is quiet for a moment, then says, “I think Max actually likes Dylan, even though your dad pretends not to. I mean, if that’s part of what’s holding you back.”
I never thought about that, but it is a relief to hear what Dad said to Brittany. Maybe I always did want my father’s approval somewhere deep inside. “I’ll take that under consideration. Thank you for telling me.”
“Yeah. No problem. Gotta run. Call you later.” The line goes dead.
As usual.
I’m about to tuck my phone away when an idea strikes. I dial Madge at the station. “Want to grab a cup of coffee at the diner in a few?”
Madge bellows to one of the deputies, asking to cover for her before she comes back on and says, “Sure. But your coffee is way better.”
“I know. But I think there’s a clue to Tina’s death at the diner. See you in five.” I do the Brittany thing and hang up quick before Madge can ask me any more questions.
After I pat my dog and tell him to be good, I flip the BACK IN TEN MINUTES sign and lock up. When I turn to head for the diner, Dylan is walking toward me on the sidewalk. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, seeing as we’re supposed to be broken up, so I lift a hand and smile as I walk toward him.
He nods and then quickly passes by me without a word, leaving a big empty hole in my gut. Is this what it’ll be like if we break up for real? Us passing by each other and being polite for the rest of our lives?
I can’t stand the thought, so I stop and turn around.
And nearly bump into his chest. I cross my arms and say, “That was just weird.”
“I know. Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at the ground. “I wanted to tell you I think we’re close to solving Tina’s murder. But I can’t quite make an arrest yet.”
That he won’t look at me doesn’t bode well. “Was Beth right about it being a woman?” Please, please, please say yes. I can’t stand the thought of my dad going to jail.
He finally meets my gaze. “Can’t say.”
I try to smile, but I can’t. “A gal’s gotta try, right?”
He nods. “I better go before people start talking. Enjoy your coffee.”
I blink at him. “How’d you know I was going for—”
“Hi, guys!” Madge joins us on the sidewalk. “What’d I miss?”
That explains it. Madge and her big matchmaking mouth. “Nothing, Madge. Bye, Dylan.” I grab Madge’s arm and tug her along with me the rest of the way to the diner.
When we arrive out front, Madge says, “That didn’t look like nothing.”
“And yet it wasn’t. Let’s sit by the window. That’s where Brittany said my dad and Tina ate lunch last.” We go inside and are instantly assaulted by the overpowering aroma of grease and coffee. It’s why I don’t frequent this esta
blishment often.
“Fine. But for the record, you and Dylan are pathetic.” Madge throws up her hands. “I’m done.”
If only that were true. “Perfect. Now sit, please.” I hold out a hand toward the empty booth by the window and grab a sticky menu.
Madge slides into the booth. “I gave you both the perfect opportunity to—”
“Really?” I toss the menu aside and sit across from her. “Is this your way of giving up on us and being done? We’re here to investigate a clue, remember? So please, let’s keep our eyes on the prize.”
“Okay, Miss Stubborn.” Madge grins as she peruses the menu. “Since you invited me, you can add a piece of chocolate mousse pie with my coffee, please. Unless you’d rather skip it and just tell me what’s going on with you two.”
“Pie it is.” I stand to place our order at the counter since it’ll take twenty minutes to get service in the nearly empty diner.
Old Man Jacob, who has worked here since I was in high school, takes my order and then slowly shuffles toward the pass-through. He holds up two fingers and calls out, “Joes and a Bullwinkle.”
I return to our booth and say, “It’ll be right out.”
Madge leans closer like she has a secret. “They must have a new cook. I don’t know who Joe is. And heaven knows what a Bullwinkle is. Maybe Jacob is losing his hearing?”
I smile. “It’s diner talk. Joe is short for coffee, and what kind of an animal is Bullwinkle?”
Madge frowns. “You mean from cartoons? That moose?”
I tap my nose. “Get it? Chocolate mousse pie?”
“Oh! That’s pretty clever.” Madge laughs. “But my break is nearly up, so what are we looking for?”
I swivel in my seat. “Ben said they’ve added something new.” I study the space with its ancient Formica-topped tables, aluminum chairs with cracked red cushions, and the same old jukebox in the corner. Everything seems as it’s always been.
“Sawyer, look!” Madge points to the ceiling. “They’ve added security cameras.”
Sure enough. The round kind with 360-degree views. I glance toward the kitchen, and there’re two cameras back there as well. “If anyone poisoned Tina’s food, it should all be recorded.”
Madge slowly nods. “That should be really good for your father, right?”
“Or really, really bad.”
Is that why Ben told me about the cameras? To prepare me for the worst?
Chapter 17
Madge and I are walking back to my store when I remember I promised John at the golf course a pot of jambalaya. And I also need to return Brittany’s books to the high school. “I’m going to take the afternoon off and run a few errands. Try to think of something other than murder for a while.”
“Good idea.” Madge stops and lays a hand on my arm. “But don’t give up hope. I’m sure your father is innocent. Those cameras at the diner most likely proved that, or I doubt Ben would’ve told you about them.”
That makes sense. Maybe. “Did you find anything in Dylan’s notes about what Tina did before she met my dad at the café?”
“Nope.” Madge shakes her head. “There’s nothing until she showed up at the diner.”
“Okay.” I blow out a long breath. “Hit me up if you hear anything else.”
“Will do.” Madge changes direction and scurries across the park.
I dig the keys out of my pocket and unlock my store’s front door. Cooper is waiting for me just inside, so I grab his leash, lock the store up for the day, and then set out for my house. I’ll make the jambalaya and let it simmer while I take the books to the high school. It might give me an excuse to talk to Emily again too. She’s someone who hasn’t been on my radar much until we found out her husband, Joe, is seeing Pattie. And she switched flowers too. Of course, there’s really no reason for Emily to want Tina dead.
However, Dylan and I learned Emily and her husband weren’t getting along so well from our last school visit. And Emily is the one who told Dylan about my father pouring liquor into Tina’s empty cup. Was Emily trying to throw Dylan off her trail?
Either way, I still don’t understand how the poison that may start with a “B,” according to Madge’s snooping, ended up in Tina. Hopefully, Dylan knows, and this whole investigation can come to an end. Then Dylan and I can have the talk I’ve been putting off for so long. He’s been incredibly patient with me, so it’s time to put the guy out of his misery.
When Cooper sees our house, he starts tugging on the leash. He’s probably hoping Brittany has returned. I keep finding Cooper outside Brittany’s bedroom door, moping. Poor guy. He misses her as much as I do. The three of us made a lovely little family.
I’m just depressing myself further, so I shake off my sadness and open the front door. I plaster a smile on and call out, “Anybody home?”
There’s no response, so I unhook Cooper from his leash and head to the kitchen. Cooper takes off up the steps to see if anyone is up there.
The chalkboard that hangs on the kitchen wall has a note scribbled on it, clearly by Meg, who has the worst handwriting in the world. That old saying about doctors having poor penmanship is correct in her case.
I squint and tilt my head to help make out what the note says. I think it’s something about going to the store for more ice cream. Or it might say, we went rock climbing. Hard to tell. Whatever they’re doing, I’m sure they’ll be back soon. So I grab the spices, andouille sausage, veggies, chicken, shrimp, and rice to get started.
Cutting up the ingredients and portioning out the spices sends a familiar calm through me. Cooking has always done that. Far different from the stress my job as an engineer invoked. It reminds me that being a chef is what I need to get back to. Running Mom’s bookstore was never something I loved and never would have been my passion.
Maybe my uncle taking it away won’t be so bad. Instead, it might force me down another path. One I might be much happier on in the end.
After my jambalaya is simmering over a super-low fire, I head upstairs to Brittany’s room for her schoolbooks. Cooper is in the hall outside the door, his teddy bear face between his paws, waiting for his sister to return to him. The sight of my brokenhearted dog sends a sharp pang to my chest. “I’m sorry, pal. Want to come inside and jump on her bed for old time’s sake?”
Cooper’s ears perk up at the usually forbidden behavior, and he beats me through the open door. By the time I move inside, Cooper has jumped on Brittany’s bed and made a mess of what was probably once a neat stack of books.
I kneel to gather the books on the floor. The history book is open to the part about the British Empire. How such a little country could have ruled so much of the world at one time amazes me. Next, I pick up the science book I’ll return to Emily. There’s an old quiz shoved between pages. I’m happy to see Brittany got an A. I’m just about to throw the paper out when a drawing on the page catches my eye. The textbook shows a cave painting depicting three men attacking prey with their tiny spears. How they managed to kill animals with the tools they had back then is pretty impressive too. I can’t remember how they did that specifically, but it still impresses me to this day.
Curious, I read the words under the picture that explain what I’d forgotten. That the South American hunters used poisonous secretions from small frogs that ate certain beetles to coat their spears.
Seeing Brittany’s books reminds me how much I used to love school. Not that I’d have ever admitted that to anyone back then, but it was a fun escape from my otherwise crazy life.
I snap the book closed and gather them all up. “Come on, Coop. I bet I can find a treat for you downstairs.”
Coop plops himself on Brittany’s pillow and refuses to budge. Even for a treat. “Suit yourself. When you get hungry enough, you’ll come to your senses.”
I go downstairs and balance the heavy books in one arm while I grab my phone and keys off the entry table with my other. Once outside, I lock the front door and head down the hill. The crisp sa
lty air stings my nose a little as I hurry toward the path that runs along the cliffs. The books didn’t seem so heavy at home, but the farther I walk, the heavier they seem to get.
I’m just about to the school when a familiar voice calls out, “Need some help?”
“Where were you ten minutes ago when I started out?” I head toward Dylan’s police SUV idling at the curb. I smile and lean the books on his open window to give my arms a break. “I’ve been one step behind you the last few days. Don’t tell me you’re about to talk to Emily too.”
“I was looking for you.” He motions with his thumb. “Hop in. I need to tell you something.”
My stomach drops like a lead weight. “About my father?” The end-of-the-day school bell rings, and a stampede of kids heads toward us.
“I’d rather talk in private.”
“’Kay.” I lift the books and then make my way around the car. Dylan has already pushed open the passenger side door for me, so I slide inside.
He says, “It’s about Brittany. I just got off the phone with her.”
Warm relief flows through me that he’s not hunting me down to say he’s arresting my dad. “What’s going on?”
“I had a suspicion about something.” Dylan draws a deep breath. “One of the reasons she left was because of you and me.”
“What? That makes zero sense!”
“She thought it’d be easier for us to be together if she wasn’t in the picture. I guess you told her that the two of you are a nonnegotiable package deal.”
“Exactly.” I raise my hands in frustration. “I thought by telling her that, she’d understand I’d never dump her because of a man like her mom did.” I hate that she could ever think that.
He nods as he stares out the windshield. “Is it one of the reasons we aren’t together?” He slowly turns his head and meets my gaze.
“No! I know you understand Brittany is my responsibility.” I take Dylan’s hand. “It’s not a problem for you, is it?” Oh, man. What if he’s changed his mind? I couldn’t bear to choose between them. However, it looks like Brittany wanted to take that possibility off the table for me too.
Bound To Be Dead: Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 3 Page 18