But Maxwell must have sensed that, too, because he inclined his head towards my grandpa and said, “I’d like that very much. Thank you, Mr. Carver.”
I finished getting the carrots, potatoes, and onions out of the slow cooker and into a serving bowl and then joined the men at the table. I was so famished I didn’t even wait to start serving myself.
“So?” I finally asked after I’d taken a couple of bites and seen that my grandpa had served himself, too. “What happened?”
“What happened?” my grandpa muttered, glaring at Maxwell. “This friend of yours showed up at my house, told me to let him do all the talking, and then proceeded to remind me that I was supposed to let him do all the talking for the next two hours while the cops tried to ask me perfectly innocuous questions.”
“There is nothing innocuous about being questioned in the matter of two separate murders, Mr. Carver.” Maxwell took a slow sip of his scotch and tilted his head to the side, clearly pleasantly surprised by the taste.
“I didn’t kill either of those men. And I would’ve liked to be able to tell the cops that.”
“You already did for the first one, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And yet you were still the first person they suspected when they found the second body.”
My grandpa harrumphed at that and shoved more food into his mouth.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked, sneaking Fancy a piece of chicken under the table. I wasn’t comfortable putting down a sharing plate with Mason Maxwell in the room.
“I don’t know. If they’d had enough evidence they would’ve arrested your grandfather instead of just bringing him in for questioning. But from what I can see they’re not looking at anyone else for this. So one more piece of evidence and they’ll probably arrest him. But until they do that…We just have to wait.”
“I didn’t kill anyone.” My grandpa slammed his hand down on the table, making our plates jump and Fancy run outside barking. “I told them that. They should believe me and find the real killer.”
“Mr. Carver, I wish the justice system were as efficient as that. It’s not. You should know that given your history.”
My grandpa stabbed at a piece of chicken. “I shouldn’t need a lawyer to defend myself for something I didn’t do.”
“When it comes to matters of the law, Mr. Carver, we can all use a lawyer. Take for example the sentence you served for killing that man. He was in your home, with a gun, about to shoot someone. If that isn’t justified homicide, I don’t know what is. If I had been your attorney, you wouldn’t have done time for what you did. You saved the life of an innocent woman and I would’ve made sure the judge and the jury saw that. You relied on the truth to protect you. It didn’t. So if you don’t want to repeat the mistakes you made back then and end up back in prison when you don’t deserve to be, you need to listen to me. Do not say anything to the cops. Officially or unofficially.”
My grandpa glared at him, but Mason Maxwell stared right back. I watched the two men lock their wills and worried that something in the room was going to break from all the energy they were directing towards one another.
Finally, my grandpa bowed his head. “Fine. I won’t speak to the cops, officially or unofficially.”
Mason Maxwell turned to me. “Same goes for you, Ms. Carver.”
“But Matt’s the one who gave me the heads up about the cops coming to question my grandpa again. If I hadn’t been speaking to the cops, and if he hadn’t given me your number, my grandpa would’ve been all alone there today.”
“It doesn’t matter. They are not your friends right now.”
“But Matt gave me your phone number.”
“Still doesn’t matter. Do you want your grandfather to go to jail?”
“No.” I fought the urge to pout. How did this man make me feel like a little kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar?
“Then don’t speak to the cops until this is over. Not even so much as a how do you do.”
I pressed my lips together. I knew that he was giving us the best advice he could. It was what I would’ve probably told any stranger in the same situation. But…
Matt was on our side.
Maxwell tried his glare on me, but I just ignored him. I could still feel it burning into me, though.
“Ms. Carver?”
“I heard you.” I stabbed at a carrot with my fork as I tried to figure out how I could save my grandpa if I couldn’t work with Matt. I’d be flying blind. Maybe it was time to go back up that mountain and see what I could find. I seriously doubted there was actually a killer lurking up there. I mean, how likely was that?
Of course if there was, it would be a really stupid thing to do to go up there.
But this was my grandpa we were talking about. I had to do something. Something more than wait around for them to find enough evidence to arrest him.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day at the store I was distracted, trying to figure out what to do. Jamie had told me not to go back up the mountain, and I knew Matt and my grandpa would both tell me the same.
And yet…
I was going to need to take some sort of risk if I wanted to save my grandpa.
Jamie and I talked about it that afternoon while Katie cleaned up after the lunch time rush. (On the café side we had a panini and soup option that was really popular with both the locals and the tourists. I’d also started putting some of the barkery packaged items on the café counter and those at least were selling well now that my local admiration society had disappeared.)
“You can’t put yourself in danger, Maggie. If you think there’s something to be found up that mountain, then let Matt be the one who does it. That’s his job.”
“But Mason Maxwell told me not to talk to him. Plus, he’s not going to take the time to look over every little inch for clues like I would. I mean, yes, he owes my grandpa for getting him on the right path, but he’s still not family, you know?”
Jamie shook her head. “I’m telling you, it’s a fool’s errand to go back up that mountain.”
“Do you honestly think there’s some crazed killer hanging out on the mountain behind my house? Really?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.” She started to refill the napkin dispensers.
I joined in to help out, the clanging metal sound as I shoved napkins into each one suiting my mood. “Tomorrow’s my one day off for the entire week. It’s my only chance to find something to clear my grandpa’s name. I’m out of options, Jamie. What else can I do?”
“I suppose relax in the backyard and read a good book isn’t an option?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should ask around to see who might’ve wanted to kill Mr. Jackson? You haven’t done that yet, have you?”
As I considered the possibility, Lucas Dean strolled through the front door. (On the café side this time. Ever since my little comment about him being a dog he’d made sure to use the café-side door, which was just fine with me.)
I glared at him as he passed by Katie, just daring him to kiss her on the cheek like he had the last time he’d been in the store. If he did I was going to take all my pent up frustrations out on him and kick him out the door so fast his head spun. I was done with him and his hijinks.
But that’s the thing about Luke. He’s good at reading women. So he didn’t stop to kiss Katie on the cheek (although she did stare after him adoringly) and he also didn’t kiss Jamie on the cheek when he reached us (although she also gazed at him like a love-struck teenager).
“Ladies. Is it too late for lunch?”
“Not at all,” Jamie answered, smiling, even though I knew she’d already packed the leftover sandwiches up and stored away the soup in the walk-in. “What would you like?”
“You know what I like. Surprise me.”
Jamie dimpled up at that while I rolled my eyes and resisted my childish urge to cough out a less than flattering description of him.
<
br /> As Jamie went to the back to prepare his lunch, Luke turned so he was leaning with his elbows on the counter next to me, which allowed him to watch Katie who was wiping down the same table over and over again while glancing up at him every few seconds through lowered lashes.
I really hoped he’d do something horrible before that girl turned eighteen, because he was going to crush her like a bug when he got his hands on her.
To pull his attention away from Katie, I forced myself to talk to him. “How are you, Luke? What are you up to these days now that you’re not working on the café?”
“This and that. Some fancy rich man’s wife is moving in for a long stay in that mansion up on the hill, so I’ve been doing work for her. She has some interesting needs, including an entire room devoted to her Irish Wolfhound. You want to give me one of those little goodie bags of yours, I could leave it for her.”
The last thing I wanted was to be indebted to Luke for anything, but business is business and if some rich socialite decided the barkery was worth patronizing that could turn everything around. So I gave him three of them. “For her and her friends.”
“How generous.” He leaned closer. “How come you can’t be that generous with me, huh, Maggie? I remember you were much more generous when we were little.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Are you seriously referring to that one time we played ‘show me yours I’ll show you mine’ from fifty feet away when we were, what, six or seven years old?”
“I’m just saying you used to be a little more open to adventure. Now you’re…frigid.”
If my grandpa hadn’t already been under suspicion of murder, I might’ve taken Lucas Dean out for good right then and there. Frigid? Frigid? Because I didn’t want to get involved with some cad who played on the emotions of every woman he met? Or because I had priorities in my life that didn’t involve bedding the nearest man I could find?
Fortunately for Lucas I believed a family should only have one person under suspicion of murder at any given time.
Jamie returned with Luke’s lunch and I took the opportunity to take Fancy and Lulu outside for a bit of play time. We all needed the diversion and I couldn’t stand watching Katie and Jamie get all gooey over him for another moment.
Jamie joined me after Luke was gone. “Katie’s watching the shop. You okay? What did Luke say to you that had you giving him the death stare?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not wasting my breath on that man. I need to figure out what to do to help my grandpa.”
I laughed as Lulu took a flying leap at Fancy, knocking her to the side. Fancy stared back at her as if asking, “What on earth was that about?”
Jamie laughed, too. “How about just spend some time with your grandpa tomorrow? If he does get arrested won’t you want to have spent as much time with him as you could?”
“But if I can find out who really did this I’ll get that much more time with him.”
Fancy, not to be outdone by Lulu’s acrobatics, took one large paw and pinned Lulu on the ground. Lulu squirmed free and ran to a safe distance before turning to bark at her.
“Leave it to the police, Maggie.”
I pressed my lips together. I was never going to convince Jamie that my stepping in and trying to solve the murders was anything other than a foolish mistake that was probably going to get me hurt or killed. And sometimes the best way to keep a friendship going is to just agree to disagree without ever actually saying you’ve done so.
“Online sales have started to pick up,” I said, changing the subject.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe it’s all the dog show folks ordering online to replace what their dogs have already eaten. I don’t know. I’m just glad to see at least someone somewhere likes my barkery idea.”
“Ah, Maggie. Success doesn’t happen overnight.”
Fancy came over to me and leaned against the side of the bench, keeping a wary eye on Lulu. I scratched behind Fancy’s ears as Lulu grabbed her chew toy and started running around the yard, throwing it for herself. “Easy for you to say. The café’s been humming along since day one.”
“That’s because people know what a café is. And if you give them good food at good prices, don’t have too much competition, and have enough people with income in the area that can afford to eat out, you can succeed.”
“Oh, is that all it takes?”
We both laughed because we were intimately familiar with all the statistics on how many restaurant businesses fail. Every single person we’d told about our plan trotted out some version of the number whether they knew what it actually was or not. The general consensus had been that we were doomed, doomed, doomed and would be crawling back to our old jobs within a year.
Jamie shook her head as Fancy decided it was time to take that chew toy from Lulu and raced after her, but Lulu easily kept head of her. “All I’m saying is that people need to get used to the idea of a barkery. And once you start drawing in the tourists you’ll be fine. People who didn’t bring their dog this time around will next time. And then you’ll be turning customers away at the door.”
“I hope not. Those poor dogs.”
Jamie laughed.
After a second, I joined her. “If it isn’t one problem, it’s another, isn’t it?”
Fancy gave up on chasing Lulu and collapsed into a heap on the grass. She only has about five minutes of good playtime in her at any given point in time. Lulu, fortunately, is about the same. She collapsed at Fancy’s side.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jamie answered me. “But I’d rather be so busy I had to take reservations than so dead I could sit outside here with you and the pups and not worry that Katie was going to get overwhelmed. Although it is pretty nice.”
“That it is.”
We both looked at the dogs, just in time to see Lulu open an eye and oh-so-casually scooch herself forward until she could chomp on Fancy’s tail. Fancy shot to her feet with a yelp and turned to glare at Lulu who looked up at her, the picture of innocence, long strands of black hair hanging out of her mouth.
“I think that’s my cue to take Fancy back inside before she decides to eat Lulu.” I jumped to my feet and dragged Fancy away. I didn’t really think she’d eat Lulu, but I wouldn’t have put it past her to pin Lulu on her back and growl a very strong opinion about what could happen to puppies that bite other dogs’ tails.
None of us needed to see that even if Lulu had earned it.
Meanwhile, Jamie went to remove the hair from Lulu’s mouth and give her a small lecture about not biting Fancy. Given the tone of the words I was pretty sure it just sounded like praise to Lulu. That dog was going to be a hellion when she was full grown…
Unless I could tame her wild puppy ways first. As I led Fancy inside I brainstormed all the ways I could help with Lulu’s training without Jamie noticing. What can I say? It’s not in my nature to leave things be when I can do something about them.
Which brought me back to how to help my grandpa.
Chapter Twenty
I tried to talk to my grandpa about everything that night, but he didn’t want to talk. He told me that he’d said his piece and now it was up to the law to figure out the truth of the situation and that there was nothing to be done until they did.
I brooded as we sat side-by-side on the couch and watched old episodes of Frasier. I wasn’t in the mood for humor, not when a killer was on the loose and my grandpa was still the only real suspect. The only thing that kept me sane was playing Sliding Tiles on my laptop. Unfortunately, unlike the game—where if you slide all the pieces around enough you eventually get to the end—I couldn’t see a way forward with the murder investigation unless I either risked my life or risked the anger of Mason Maxwell.
I didn’t sleep well that night trying to figure out what to do next. I really, really wanted to go up that mountain. But I also knew that if there was actually something to be found up there that I’d be a fool to do so. One, because of the possib
le risk to my life. Two, because if there was forensic evidence then the cops should really be the ones to find and process it.
I was still law-abiding enough to think they were the best ones to find any evidence, although it was a close call.
When I took Fancy out for her walk the next morning she really wanted to go up the mountain. In her case, though, I knew it was because she’d found something smelly that one time and was hoping to find something equally smelly again. I resisted the urge to let her lead us with her nose and pulled her towards the street instead.
We passed Katie out for her normal morning run. She was as friendly as always—running past without even glancing our way. Weeks of working together and I still hadn’t figured out what made that girl tick.
I decided to walk Fancy down to the ballpark and let her run around for a bit. It was a gorgeous morning and she’d earned it. Of course, her version of running around is to sink into the soft green grass of the ball field and watch the birds fly by.
Don’t get me wrong, that’s just fine with me. I knew a woman when I was in DC who had a Vizsla. She would run that dog a mile to the dog park, let it play for forty-five minutes, run it the mile back home, and that dog would still want to play more. I am far too lazy for a dog like that. Fancy fits me perfectly—one walk a day with the rest of the time spent sleeping or eating.
I sat down next to her and tried to enjoy the morning, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about my grandpa and what I could do to save him. I looked towards the mountain where they’d found Jack Dunner’s body—I couldn’t see my grandpa’s house from there, but I could see the ridgeline—but it was just a mountain like any of the other ten I could see from where I was sitting.
I wished I was up on my rock looking down on everything instead of down at the ballpark feeling lost, but I made the best of it by pulling out my phone and surfing Facebook to see what perfect lives people were pretending to have now. Like the friend who’d just posted all her photos of her amazing vacation in Mexico that I knew had involved spending three out of five days sick with Montezuma’s Revenge.
A Dead Man and Doggie Delights Page 10