“Or do you know the man in jeans who was supposed to stay with the body.”
“I’ve only been here four months—”
“Aggie Hickmott and Phyllis Ezzard?”
“Yes, we’ve passed on their issues to corporate, with no success.”
“That can’t help employee morale.”
She looked down and speared another strawberry with her fork.
I pushed a little harder. “How has it been dealing with the employees when there’s that lack of support, not to mention the firings.”
Another strawberry paid the ultimate price.
“It’s been awful. They keep changing things. All for the worse. It’s like they read every bit of feedback we give them and they do the opposite. Do they think annoying the customers is the way to increase business? Because that’s what they’re doing. Annoying customers and firing so many of the best workers and then wearing out the rest.
“We’re supposed to have a four-person management team, but we have two — two — and the manager’s gone most of the time. He’s weeks away from retirement and he’s terrified if anyone from the company sees him, they’ll fire him before his date. I can’t really blame him. That sweep of employees last week? They terminated a high percentage of well-salaried butchers and managers near retirement.”
“They’re kicking them out so they don’t have to pay them anything in retirement? That stinks,” Clara said.
Jacqueline nodded. “Hourly workers see what happens to management and very few want to get promoted. Which is why we only have two managers at this store. And that’s not unusual. Most stores are understaffed — hourly and management.”
“If they’re that low on managers why don’t they hire from outside?”
To my surprise, Clara answered my question. “What I read last night said they can’t attract outside hires. Several commenters said outside hires who’ve previously been in good situations won’t stick around.”
Jacqueline humphed agreement. “The ones who know better.”
“What else did you read last night?” I asked Clara.
“The Jolly Roger chain’s supposed to be trying a big turnaround, but it’s not going well and the management team led by Birchall is the reason according to several experts. They say they’re making exactly the same mistakes that sent a chain in Idaho into bankruptcy—”
“PFFT — P F F T,” I said.
“—including downscaling, limiting selection, stocking mostly house brands, cutting employees and service — pretty much what we heard from the customers and Jacqueline yesterday.”
The assistant manager added, “Did you notice no upper management jobs were cut? And then, after Birchall ran that chain into the ground, he was rewarded by being put in charge of the Jolly Roger chain.”
Something in her voice cut sharper than disgust or even anger.
“That manager who was your mentor at the store in Indiana, she was one of the people fired last week, wasn’t she?”
Jacqueline’s jaw tightened enough that she needed a moment to get out the word, “Yes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“How did you know her mentor was fired?” Clara asked as soon as we were in my car.
I held up a finger in a one-minute gesture. “Let’s call the delivery service before it closes, get our Shep’s groceries to our houses.”
“Sure. I’ll do that.”
When she’d finished, I said, “As for the mentor being fired, pure guess. It seemed to mean too much to Jacqueline for it to not be personal. But how did you know all about the corporate turnaround?”
“Research online last night. I was looking for information on Foster Utton before going to see him this morning.”
“And you didn’t share?”
“Didn’t find anything about him. Not a thing. It’s like he barely exists. His name’s listed in a few places, but no bio or background or anything. But I kept falling over these articles saying how bad the turnaround was going.
“They bought a chain of several stores around Charlotte, North Carolina that had live piano music and short-order grills and wine bars, along with great meat and produce. They were beloved. When the Jolly Roger people took over — in other words, Birchall — everything changed. All the special elements were stripped away practically overnight. Now they’re regular Roger stores and sinking fast.”
“Sounds dumb. But do you think Birchall was killed because of bad management moves?”
“Doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. And with him dying the way he did… Unless it turns out to be an accident after all—”
She shook her head vigorously. “Bashed in the head.”
“—it seemed personal.”
“I agree. At first I thought maybe Jacqueline, because she was upset with him, but after listening to her and all the stuff about management and employees and demotions and all, that seems more about business. I guess that can be personal, too, but, even as upset as she was about the manager she liked, would she kill the CEO?”
* * * *
The service delivered just after I arrived home.
Putting away the food, I pulled out the ingredients card and left it beside the salad.
As I ate, I considered the card. I’d never looked at them closely before.
If I’d thought about the listing of the ingredients at all, I’d viewed it as a sort of a “nothing up my sleeve” statement.
Or a challenge. Here are all the things that went into it. If you think you can do as well, go for it.
Now, I thought about the woman who’d written the card and her husband, who’d been in his rival’s store when the CEO was killed.
Had he known Birchall was there? How much coincidence was that if he hadn’t known?
But then why go? Despite his bravado in talking about the Roger copying Shep’s specials, there’d been worry in his eyes. Fear, even.
If someone was feeding him the specials, could he have been there to meet them? But why the store of all places? And why then? And, finally, why then leave with Karen Zalesk?
Had he gone to meet Karen Zalesk?
A woman with a daughter…
A mother who said the girl had food allergies, potentially fatal food allergies.
I tapped the card against the table. For that little girl and her family a card like this became a lifeline.
DAY THREE
WEDNESDAY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“It’s supposed to rain today,” Teague announced when I opened my back door to his morning knock.
“Thank you for that weather report.”
“Have you found an electrician?”
“Of course not. It’s only been—”
“Too long. I found someone. Highly recommended. Including by your friend Urban Parham, the historian. He—”
“How do you know Urban?”
“—says this guy is great on historical houses, which means he should be able to deal with your strange system. He’s available now, then not for a long stretch as he’s updating several houses for a landlord. I propose he comes today and probably tomorrow. I can be here with him. Show him what I’ve seen, learn about the system to relay to you. That way you don’t have to interrupt your—” He coughed slightly. “—activities, but you’ll still have an electrical system I don’t wake in a cold sweat worrying will fry you and Gracie.”
“You’ve really been that worried?”
“Close.”
I rapidly assessed. No electrician search, a guy vouched for by Urban, getting it done, Teague relieving me of needing to be on hand all day … All I had to do was pay.
“Deal. Thanks. Thanks a lot. In fact,” I added impulsively, “I’m cooking dinner for Clara and Ned tonight. Want to join us as a thank you?”
“Thanks. Yes. I’ll plan on it.”
“Of course I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Not for dinner you won’t.”
I laughed in gratitude for his keeping
it light and keeping the lines in place. There’d been a time at Clara and Ned’s house once — his hand over mine, the warmth and strength — when I wondered… But, no.
“For electrician duty.”
* * * *
The four of us — Clara and LuLu, Gracie and me — hit the dog park far earlier than usual.
That was even after I’d been at the house to meet the electrician. He was shockingly young, but touched the woodwork of the house with a respect and fondness. And Gracie liked him.
That left my mind at ease as I moved to the important matters of the day, starting with getting to the dog park early.
Early enough that Aggie Hickmott was not yet there with her dog Simba, when our goal had been to overlap with her.
Early enough to raise Donna’s eyebrows, when our goal had been to keep a low profile.
We chatted with Donna and others, not bringing up the murder on Covert Circle and not participating if others did. This appeared to amuse Donna greatly.
As she prepared to leave, she suggested we walk with her and Hattie to the gate.
“Admirable restraint.” That murmur appeared to be directed toward Hattie, but since the aging golden was mellow in the extreme, I suspected it was meant for Clara and me. “Surely you have something to ask me.”
“As a matter of fact…” Clara asked if she knew anyone in the county named Karen Zalesk.
“I know a number of Karens, but no one with that last name.”
Our description didn’t help any.
As Donna and Hattie left the gated area for the parking lot, a woman with a terrier mix with a neon green collar and leash approached. Donna looked back at us with a grin. “Good hunting.”
I showed further admirable restraint — and good judgment — by keeping quiet and letting Clara make contact with Aggie Hickmott.
“Hi. I thought I recognized you at the Roger the other day. What an adorable guy you have there. Simba, right? Isn’t it awful how we know the dogs’ names and not the humans’?”
Clara clearly didn’t think it was awful, but rather the way things should be. Aggie Hickmott appeared to agree.
Contact.
After a few more Clara sentences, drawing me in, and touching on the customer-CEO conflict, Aggie was the one to bring up the subject of his murder.
“Unpleasant man. I don’t suppose he deserved to die, though.” She didn’t sound completely convinced.
“Had you ever met him before?”
“Never.”
“Had any correspondence with him?”
“Correspondence? You mean like emailing him or writing a letter?”
“Or a phone call.”
“No.”
“Oh? That’s not—”
Clara talked over me. “We could swear we’d heard you took the lead in a matter involving the Jolly Roger chain…”
“You mean about when they wouldn’t recall that dog food?”
That sure deflated my gotcha mode. “Yes.”
“Mind you, I get Simba’s things at Zepke’s,” she said of a local pet store. “But we can’t have dogs getting dangerous food because their owners shop at the Roger. That’s why I got on them about not recalling it. Never got to Birchall. Went to see him. Decided it would be better to show up at his office. Closest I got was a shrew outside his door. Has no soul that one. All she could talk about was not leaving dog hair on their furniture. Stayed an extra hour after it was clear he wasn’t coming in, just to get her goat.”
“Then you gave up?”
“Heck, no, I didn’t give up. I got a call from a reporter from Channel 8 — you know the one,” she said to Clara. “The little one with the long dark hair who’s interviewed you?”
“Bianca Abernathy? She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?”
“More important, she has a dog,” Aggie said. “She turned up the heat under Birchall and he folded.”
“As he should have. In fact, they should have withdrawn that food without any heat,” Clara said. “Were you at the Roger to check over the dog food or pick up a few things?”
“I keep my eye on the pet aisle whenever I’m there.” She shifted her weight. “Wish I could find a few things when I went there. Half the time I come away without half of what I wanted.”
“I know what you mean. It’s crazy a store that big seems to have half as much as Shep’s.”
The woman’s expression simultaneously closed off and sharpened. Her shoulders rose. Either she was trying to keep her ears warm or she was defensive.
An awfully strong reaction to Clara’s casual comment about grocery inventories.
“I prefer Shep’s, of course, but sometimes you can’t avoid going to the Roger.” Clara was feeling her way.
“Nobody can. Nobody.”
A light went on in Clara’s eyes. She’d just comprehended something in Haines Tavern-speak that remained a foreign language to me. One no translation app had tackled.
“That’s so true. And there’s nothing to be done about it and no reason to feel odd about it. Especially not when … well, when everyone comes into the Roger.”
“They do, don’t they.” She and Clara had created a rapport.
“Though,” Clara said delicately, “it can still be a surprise when…”
“Beyond a surprise.”
“I know.” Clara’s warm agreement was actually for the woman agreeing with her, but I detected Aggie’s shoulders easing slightly, though still in earmuff territory. “I nearly hid behind my cart when I saw… Which makes no sense. I mean being embarrassed about being at the Roger when… Well, I wasn’t the only one.”
“I reacted the exact same way. I ducked out of his sight when he went past. It’s instinct to not have him see you, even though he’s there, too.”
Him?
I realized Clara had been careful not to specify gender — or anything else. Smart.
And now, as I reviewed what had been said, the mists parted.
Aggie Hickmott had seen Gundy Vance.
“I imagine he knows that woman,” Aggie said.
What woman trembled on Clara’s lips. I was sure, because it trembled on my lips, too.
Our lips did not succumb, however.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Clara assured her.
Aggie’s shoulders dropped toward a more comfortable position. “Friend of the family, no doubt. Wife probably sent him.”
“That would be just like her, wouldn’t it?”
“Exactly.” She expelled a long breath. “And that woman sure was upset after what happened with Birchall and her daughter.”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Not only had Aggie seen Gundy in the Roger around the time of Rod Birchall’s murder, but she confirmed he’d been with our former mystery woman, Karen Zalesk. Well, still partial mystery woman.
And with a different slant from Petey’s sighting.
“I mean, she was angry with Birchall,” Aggie said, “but she was practically beside herself when Gundy came around that floor case in front of the cheese — you know, where they have pre-packaged seafood and such.”
I did know, as I was sure Clara did. It was in front of the door to the back room by the dairy products.
“My, my, my.” Clara sounded as if she belonged on a veranda, fanning herself. “She was angry at him? Gundy?”
“She was so angry about Birchall I doubt there was room for much of anything else.” She slid a look toward Clara, then away. “The little girl clearly knew him.”
“As you said, a friend of the family.”
“Of course, of course. That must be it. You could say he was protective, too, sort of bundling them all toward the door at double speed.” She paused a moment. Her vacant stare made me guess she was thinking back to what she’d seen and heard. “Must know each other quite well, the way he scolded and she snapped back at him.”
She blinked back to us and — unfortunately — an apparent awareness of all she’d said.
I rushed in with, “How did you discover the Jolly Roger CEO was in our store in the first place?”
The our was a nice touch, I thought.
She started with the obligatory justification.
“I’d gone in to pick up a few things, only because I was driving past and I had a full schedule. Shep’s is my regular store. I’m barely in to an aisle and I heard him. Hard not to. He was braying at the new assistant store manager. Birchall wanted the manager, which proves he was an idiot, because anyone more useless than Kurt Verker I’ve yet to meet. As if any further proof were needed about Birchall’s stupidity.”
I’ll admit, my first thought was the teacherly woman — and my great aunt — would be pleased at her correct use of the conditional “were” in that last sentence.
Secondarily, I agreed with the sense of what she’d said.
Rod Birchall hadn’t exhibited a high level of logic in his dispute with her. Low cunning maybe, but not high logic.
“Then,” Aggie continued, “he piled on more proof every time he opened his mouth.”
She repeated all of the conversation we’d already heard because we’d been there. No, I didn’t point that out. Clara’s tact might be rubbing off on me.
Abruptly, as if she realized she’d said too much, or possibly spotting rain-threatening clouds overhead, she said, “Gotta go. Way past time to get Simba home. We popped in for a short visit.”
Simba looked up at her with a clear message of Don’t blame it on me.
* * * *
Clara and I collected our dogs, made easier because this was a lull between waves of dogs — possibly a protracted lull considering the thickening and spreading clouds — and they wouldn’t be missing anything by leaving.
“She should tell Deputy Hensen about Gundy Vance and Karen Zalesk,” I said.
“You sound like Teague now,” Clara protested.
“This is serious, Clara. A man with a strong motive — perhaps the strongest motive — was not only in the store at the right time for Birchall’s murder but with the woman who’d had the most acrimonious confrontation with Birchall, and Vance hustled her out of the building.”
Death on Covert Circle Page 15