by Jessica Beck
Ray had other thoughts on the matter, though. He stepped between us and the diner, and though we could have just as easily gone around him, I decided that he was right. I’d been the one to ask him to share information with me, not the other way around. “Okay, I’ve got two minutes,” I said. “We’ve learned that Hank Fletcher has a temper, Hannah Thrush has a mean streak, and Amanda Harrison has been acting suspiciously since even before I found Tom Johnson’s body.”
Grace looked genuinely surprised that I’d told the newspaperman so much, but I was holding a bit of it back, too. For instance, I still hadn’t mentioned the robbery to him, or the fact that Tom’s estranged agent and editor were both at the conference.
“Yes, I found most of that out for myself on the internet. Is there anything else you’re holding back from me?” he asked pointedly.
“I was robbed either before, during, or after the murder, though I have to ask you not to tell anyone else that it even happened,” I said.
Ray nodded. “Thanks. For a second there I thought you were going to keep that to yourself.”
“Ray, I mean it. You can’t print it,” I implored him. “The police chief asked me to keep it to myself, and if he finds out that I told you, he’ll never trust me again.” That much was true. I was staking a great deal on Ray’s ability to sit on anything he might think publishable. I just hoped that I didn’t live to regret it. The only thing I had going for me was that by the time he could print a newspaper with that particular bit of information in it, the suspects would be long gone.
“I understand, but you don’t have to worry about me. The police chief told me about the robbery not twenty minutes ago. Actually, he just confirmed what I’d already heard from someone who saw the report this morning.”
“Did he ask you who told you about the theft?” I asked him.
“Of course he did, but all I would say was that it was from a confirmed source within official channels, which it was. I refused to give him a name, and he seemed to accept that, albeit reluctantly.”
“Good,” I said, not about Ray being able to protect his source, but about calling it an official channel, which no one in all of April Springs would ever consider me, much less our esteemed chief of police.
“Now it’s your turn,” I told Ray. “We’re sharing here, remember?”
“I hate to say it, but you had just about everything I did, except that someone spotted Hank and Hannah in each other’s arms this morning.”
He looked so proud of having news that I already possessed that I couldn’t afford to let him suspect that I’d been holding out on him. “Imagine that,” I said.
“Yes, I’m trying to, but it’s difficult, isn’t it?” Grace asked, hiding another smile. If Ray caught her grinning again, there was no way he was going to believe that it was another delayed reaction to something I’d said earlier. We all knew that I just wasn’t that funny.
“Believe it. I’ve been looking for Hank Fletcher most of the morning, but I haven’t had any luck. I’m starting to think that he’s left town.”
I couldn’t believe that Ray had missed Hank’s abrupt departure from the bookstore not ten minutes earlier, but I wasn’t about to tell him. “Happy hunting. If he’s gone, there’s nothing we can do about it, but if he did stick around, you could always buy one of his books and get him to sign it. While he’s doing that, you can question him about his relationship with Hannah.”
“I might just do that,” Ray said. “Sorry I haven’t been able to dig up more, but it’s early, isn’t it?”
“The truth of the matter is that I’m afraid it’s getting rather late,” I said. “Keep at it, Ray.”
“You, too,” he said as he went off down Springs Drive searching for a suspect we’d already interviewed.
Once he was gone, Grace whistled softly under her breath as we neared the Boxcar Grill for a quick bite to eat. “For a second there I thought you were going to tell him everything we knew.”
“I wasn’t about to do that, but then again, I couldn’t exactly withhold everything from him. After all, I was the one who asked him to team up with us.”
“You lied to him about seeing Hank,” she reminded me. “I didn’t think we were doing that anymore.”
“Technically, I wasn’t lying to a suspect, but I get your point,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re forgiven,” she said. “Let’s eat.”
“Wow, that was easier than I had any right to expect,” I said with a soft smile.
“What can I say? Sometimes I’m a pushover.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’d call you,” I replied.
As we started to walk up the steps of the diner, something caught my eye in the park. It was two people arguing, two folks that I never would have suspected of being close enough to even have a conversation, let alone a disagreement in public. Gregory Smith was having a rather public conflict with Paige Hill, and it looked as though my friend and cosponsor of our event could use our help.
“What’s going on here?” I asked pointedly as I stood firmly beside Paige. Grace took up her other flank, so at least she knew that we stood with her, no matter what.
“It’s nothing,” Paige said. “I can handle it.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Gregory said. “I’ve been telling her that Hannah deserves a panel of her own, but she won’t listen. The other two are cookbook writers, for goodness sake, while Hannah Thrush is a genuine storyteller. It’s an outrage.”
“Nevertheless, she agreed to the format before she ever came,” Paige said gently but firmly.
“That was when Johnson was here as well,” Smith said dismissively. “Now that he’s gone, it’s going to be disproportionately skewed toward the nonfiction writers, and that’s just not right.”
“What do you suggest we do?” I asked him.
“Suzanne, it’s too late to change formats,” Paige reminded me. “Besides, it’s the principle of the thing. She agreed, so it’s too late to back out now.”
“Agreed to what?” Hannah asked. I hadn’t even seen her slip up behind me. The girl was stealthy; I had to give her that much.
Gregory Smith actually blushed in her presence. “You deserve the stage by yourself, Hannah, and that’s what I’ve been trying to tell them. I don’t know why they can’t see that, especially now that Tom Johnson isn’t going to be up onstage with you.”
“Greg,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. He acted as though it sent a jolt of electricity through him, and I wasn’t sure that it hadn’t. “I agreed to the format, and that’s what I’m going to do. Would I rather leave and go home right now because of what happened to poor Tom? Of course I would, but I gave my word that I’d be here until the end, and that’s what I’m going to do. Now give these ladies some peace and quiet. They’ve worked hard for this event, and I for one am not going to make things any more difficult for them than they have to be.”
“Okay. Sure. I understand. I was just looking out for you, like I always do.”
“I appreciate that,” she said. “Greg, would you mind giving us a minute?”
“Not at all,” he said as he hurried away. This woman had massive control over him, turning him from a roaring lion to a skittish lamb with just a look, a touch, and a kind word.
“I’m sorry for Gregory’s behavior. He tends to get a little overprotective of me at times, though I’ve told him time and time again that I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
“How long has he been so devoted to you?” Grace asked from the side.
“For a year at least,” she said. “Every event I attend, no matter how far away, he is there, front and center. He must own two dozen signed copies of everything I’ve ever written, including some obscure short stories that I don’t even have copies of myself, and yet he continues to come back.”
“He’s really protective of you, isn’t he?” I asked her.
“No. I refuse to believe it,” she said suddenly, knowing ex
actly where I was going with my question. “There’s no way he had anything to do with Tom Johnson’s murder.”
“You have to admit that it’s possible, though. After all, he’s been trying to use Tom’s murder as an opportunity to get you time on stage alone. What if that’s not a coincidence?” I asked her.
“You’re worse than most of the mystery writers I know, seeing villains behind every bush,” she said, dismissing me as she headed over to the bookstore.
“If you’re looking for Hank, he left a few minutes ago,” I said.
“He left town?” she asked worriedly.
“No, he was hiding out at the bookstore, but he decided that it was getting a little too crowded there for him,” Grace answered.
Hannah looked relieved to hear the news. “It’s not important. I’ll catch up with him later then, but I wanted to check out the stage one more time before we go on again.”
“Would you like me to come with you?” I volunteered.
From her expression, it was clear that I was the last person on earth she wanted to be around at the moment. “No, I’m sure that I’ll be fine,” she said.
After she left, Paige said, “Thanks for joining in. I wasn’t sure how that man was going to take it when I refused to give his idol the spotlight.”
“You did the right thing sticking to your guns,” I told her. “Grace and I knew you could handle it. Sometimes it’s just easier with three instead of one.”
“I’m not complaining,” she said as she waved at a man with a dolly loaded with books. “If you’ll excuse me, that’s the delivery I’ve been waiting on.”
“By all means,” I said as Paige headed the man off before he could get into the bookstore.
“This case just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser,” I told Grace as we finally walked into the Boxcar Grill after the unexpected delays.
I’d been hoping for a quiet lunch with Grace so I could collect myself before the next panel, but evidently that wasn’t in the cards.
The chief of police stood the moment he saw us and beckoned us to join him at his table. I was hoping he just wanted to see his girlfriend, but I had a hunch that he wanted to discuss Tom Johnson’s murder with us, and I was hardly in any position to refuse him.
“Ladies, care to join me?” the chief asked cordially. It was more of an order than a request, and I knew we were going to be talking about the case during our lunch.
“Of course,” Grace said as she reached out her hand. “I’d kiss you hello, but from your tone of voice, I’m guessing this is official police business.”
“Don’t be that way,” he said softly. “I’m playing nice.”
“Fine,” Grace said as she pulled her hand back. “In that case, we’d love to join you.”
“Good,” he said.
After we sat down, Trish came over, looking harried. “This festival of yours is working me like a dog. I should have hired extra help the second I heard what you were planning.”
“The place is hopping, so that’s a good thing, right? Or should I apologize?”
She laughed. “No need for that. Don’t listen to me, I’m just feeling a little crabby all of a sudden. I hope you want burgers or the meatloaf special, because those are the only two things Hilda has time to make right now.”
“Either one sounds good. Surprise me,” I said.
“Me, too,” Grace replied. “Whatever makes things easier for you.”
“I knew you two were my favorite customers for a reason,” she said with a grin. “I’ll be right back with two sweet teas.”
“Sounds great,” I said. After ordering was dispensed with, I turned to the chief. “Since this clearly isn’t a social call, what do you want to talk to us about?”
“You didn’t tell Ray Blake about the robbery at Donut Hearts, did you?” he asked me softly.
“As a matter of fact, he told me,” I said. It was nice not having to lie to my friend. “You instructed me to keep it to myself, and I did exactly that.”
The chief frowned for a second before blowing out a bit of air. “I knew you’d keep your word,” he said. “Apparently there’s a leak in my department, and I mean to find it.”
“Would you like to hire us to go undercover and track the rat down?” Grace asked, exaggerating her offer with beady eyes and a grim expression.
Chief Grant laughed long and hard, despite the seriousness of the problem in his department. “You’re good for my spirit, you know that, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I aim to please,” Grace said, clearly happy that she’d at least made him smile for a moment. “How are you doing? Really?”
“I’m having a hard time keeping my suspects in town without having something to go on,” he said. “What I’ve got so far isn’t enough to hold any of them.”
“Can we help?” I asked, keeping my voice low. I noticed there were several people paying attention to our conversation, but they were far enough away that if I softened my tone, they wouldn’t be able to hear us all that well.
“I don’t suppose you know who killed Tom Johnson and stole your money in the process, do you?” he asked.
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. We have a few leads, and if you’d like to hear them, we’d be happy to share what we’ve got with you.” I couldn’t see the harm in making the offer, since we were all running out of time.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m not sure my constituents would appreciate me consulting with the two of you on a capital murder case,” he said.
“We won’t tell them if you don’t,” Grace said.
“Thanks, but I’m making progress even without your more-than-able assistance.” He paused a moment and then added, “On the other hand, if you two want to talk about what you’ve found out so far in front of me while I take notes on another case, I couldn’t exactly stop you. If I’ve already heard what you’re discussing, I’ll just tap my pencil like this,” he said as he tapped the eraser end on the table.
I nodded, suppressing a grin with all my might. “Grace, can you believe the temper Hank Fletcher has? It’s hard to believe the man’s got a record for defending damsels in distress.”
There was a quick tap on the table, so Grace added, “He’s been seen in the park cozying up to Hannah Thrush after she had a confrontation with the murder victim, too.”
The chief’s pencil was silent, so maybe we were at least helping a little.
“Hannah herself has a history of striking back at men who’ve made unwanted advances towards her in the past,” I said.
The pencil tapped again, so it appeared the chief had already heard about that as well.
“Don’t forget that Amanda Harrison was seen last night around the donut shop around the time of the murder carrying a large canvas bag full of something. She claimed they were books, but who’s to say what was really in there?”
No tap again, so we’d scored once more.
“That leaves the two ardent fans in attendance, Cindy Faber and Gregory Smith, either one of whom could have done it.”
Two more taps, so the chief was aware of them as well.
“And then there’s Tom’s estranged agent and editor,” I finished. “It appears that the murder victim had dirt on each one of them, and either might have wanted to shut the man up for good before he unveiled what he knew to the world.”
To my surprise, the chief tapped his pencil twice again, so he’d been aware of them, too.
“We need to keep digging until we come up with something a little more concrete than just our suspicions,” I said, and to my surprise, the chief tapped his pencil again. Was he actually endorsing our investigation? I knew that he couldn’t come right out and say it, but if that tapping meant what I think it did, he was okay with us continuing our work.
I was about to say something to that effect when Trish came out carrying two plates. Each one had half a hamburger on it, along with some fries, but that wasn’t all. Along with that offering, there was a half-sized
slice of meatloaf on the plate, along with smaller portions of green beans and mashed potatoes. “You said to surprise you.” Trish laughed as she put the plates down. “How did I do?”
“You were wildly successful,” I said with a grin. “Grace, how does this look to you?”
“Suzanne, I think we should order this every time we come here,” she said with a laugh.
“Oh, no. I’ve created a pair of monsters,” she said with a chuckle before she scampered back up front to check a customer out. “That’s what I get for trying to be a smarty pants.”
“Actually, that does look pretty good,” the chief said as he examined our plates.
“I’ll share with you if you’d like,” Grace said.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. I was just sitting here nursing my sweet tea hoping that inspiration would strike when lo and behold, the two of you walked in.”
“I’d say this was your lucky day, then,” Grace told him, and then she took a bite of her burger, followed quickly by a French fry and then a bite of meatloaf dipped in her mashed potatoes.
“You forgot your green beans,” the chief pointed out.
“There was no more room on my fork, but I can remedy that,” Grace said as she stabbed a few beans and popped them into her mouth. “Delightful.”
“It looks it,” the chief said. He slipped two singles under his plate and then, pausing for a moment, he said softly, “You two be careful now, you hear?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Police Chief, sir,” Grace said with a grin.
To her obvious surprise, he leaned over and kissed her forehead delicately. “I mean it.”
“I know. We will,” she said softly. “See you tonight?”
“I’ll touch base with you later,” he replied. “It’s too soon to say just yet.”
“I’ll be waiting for your call,” she said. “Well, not exactly waiting, it’s not like I don’t have anything else to do myself, but I look forward to the possibility of hearing from you. Just go, okay? I don’t know what I’m saying, you’ve got me so flustered with that kiss.”