1 Depth of Field (8 page)

I chuckled. “Mostly nice.”

“Talia.” She nodded, but I had been thinking of Louisa and Susan. To hear her criticize her own friend surprised me, but Edna’s expression held affection. “She wasn’t always so grumpy. When her husband died two years ago, she took it hard. They were close, but Ollie swooped in right away. I admit at first I was a little miffed. I wanted Ollie, you see, but he had always had eyes for Talia. The man must like to be abused.”

I had to bite off the laughter that threatened to erupt from me. Poor Edna looked as peaked now as she did when Louisa yelled at her. At her confession, I began to wonder if her outspokenness had to do with copying Talia, but she didn’t have the fire Talia bundled with her outrageousness.

“Edna, would you mind if I adopted you as my grandmother?” I asked. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Edna’s eyes doubled in size. “Really? You mean it? Because I can bake a very good apple pie, if I do say so myself.” She winked. “Talia tries and tries, but her crust comes out too thick and not flaky at all.”

The triumph in Edna’s face made me glad I had asked the impromptu question. I had a problem with too many sweets, but I saw no reason not to indulge Edna once in a while. Yes, my sacrifice was all for
her
.

“Well, I look forward to trying your pie,” I said as we walked on.

At the end of Main and South Street, we paused for Edna to catch her breath. We spotted a bench on the opposite walk, so we crossed to it and had a seat. While Edna sat back, panting, I fanned her with a flyer I’d found lying on the bench. The slip of paper announced a sale for fresh produce at the grocery store.

“Makayla,” Edna said, when she had caught her breath.

I studied her face. She seemed no worse for wear and even appeared to glow with happiness.

“If you want to know more about Alvin, you should talk to Ollie.”

Her suggestion didn’t surprise me. “Your group is close friends with him, right?” I didn’t mention the relationship between Ollie and Talia, since that was already established to her disappointment, but Edna was the one to bring it up again.

“Ollie knows everything that happens in this town,” Edna said, “and he tells Talia most of it.”

Her words surprised me. “Most?”

She nodded. “Talia is almost as big a gossip as Ollie is. What Ollie tells Talia, she tells us, her friends. If she doesn’t it’s because Ollie didn’t tell her. The last time we were at The Donut Hole, Talia said Ollie told her to be quiet about Alvin. She said Ollie never talks to her like that.”

My head swirled at the implications. What did Ollie know he didn’t tell his fiancée about? “Do you think it has something to do with Alvin’s murder?”

Edna shrugged. “Well it’s about Alvin, but there’s no guarantee it’s about the murder. I remember other times Ollie kept secrets from Talia.”

“Really?” Now my interest exploded. I didn’t know how to contain my own curiosity. So far Edna was willing to chat on and on, but who knew when she too would close off and refuse to share. I didn’t know if this had anything to do with murder, but maybe a clue was imbedded somewhere. I just hoped I would recognize it when I heard it. “What secrets?”

Edna tried to scoot to the edge of the bench to stand and failed. I helped hoist her to her feet. Although a little on the plump side, she wasn’t as heavy as I had supposed. We resumed our walk down the street.

I thought my new grandmother had forgotten my question when she spoke. “If I knew all the secrets, I would tell you, Makayla. It’s just that last spring, Talia and Ollie got into a huge fight. They even stopped speaking to each other for a while. I thought the girls group would break up because sides were taken.”

I didn’t have to ask her if she were on Ollie’s side. “What was the fight about?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think it had to do with Ollie getting less work. Talia accused Ollie of keeping secrets from her, and he got so mad, he called her a nosy old biddy. Talia socked him.”

I gasped. Granny drama was an unexpected turn of events. “Their fight might not have had anything to do with Alvin.”

Edna agreed. “You might be right.”

At our next break, I waited, not wanting to push her, but Edna seemed to want to talk to someone other than her group for this discussion. I personally found it interesting—or sad, depending on how you take it—that the two people I was becoming closest to in Briney Creek were a young person, Inna, and an elderly one, Edna. What did that say about Makayla Rose?

We arrived at my apartment complex of all places, and Edna informed me she intended to visit with Talia. Rivals seemed to mix a lot in this town. “Do you need anything else, Edna? I’ll be happy to run errands for you if you need it.”

“Oh no, sweetheart. Talia, the girls, and me attack the grocery store on mass once or twice a week. We did that two days ago. I have everything I need for the pie.”

I bit my lip. “The pie?”

She grinned. “Yes, you’re coming to my house for pie and coffee next week. Didn’t we discuss it?”

“No.” Now she worried me. Had all the talk been a figment of an aging mind? Then Edna patted my arm, amusement brightening her eyes.

“That’s my way of inviting you,” she said. “Bring anyone you want. I’ll feed you all the pie you like, and my coffee is much better than that swill they serve at The Donut Hole. I can promise you that!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Swill? The word and a few others she’d chosen made me wonder where her vocabulary came from, but then her next words distracted me from asking about it.

“After we found out about Alvin’s death, Talia said something that surprised me.”

“What was that?”

Edna’s brow furrowed as she thought. “She said Ollie told her he knows a lot about the people in town, especially Alvin and Susan. Before you ask, no, he didn’t give her an example.”

I let the spark of hope that rose in me die at her last sentence, but then I wondered. If Ollie wasn’t willing to share what he knew with his fiancée, maybe he would with me. For that matter, maybe he would with Spencer. I determined to share this tidbit with the sheriff. The situation wasn’t a game, and I wanted him to have all the information he needed to make an arrest.

“Well, Makayla, dear, thank you for walking me,” Edna said. “You know where I live?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Good. Three thirty. Don’t be late. The pie will be hot.”

“I’ll be there,” I promised and waited until she entered my building before turning back to the street. Only after I had taken a few steps did I recall I had to trek all the way back to the shop. Even stopping frequently, Edna had made the walk. These townspeople were amazing.

Chapter Eight

I made it back to my car just as Frank and Peony Trevor exited The Donut Hole, and Frank hung a sign on the window that said the restaurant would reopen by four in the afternoon. Both Frank and Peony seemed worn to a frazzle, and Peony pushed the baby in a stroller with such lackluster movements, I worried.

Hurrying over to the couple, I touched Peony’s arm. “Is everything okay? I imagine after the morning you had, you’re both exhausted.”

“We’re fine, thanks, Makayla,” Peony said, but she never raised her eyes from the baby as if she thought with her waning strength a gust of wind would make her lose control of the stroller.

Frank gave a half smile. I didn’t think he could produce any more than that. “I’ve taken on worse than this morning and beat it. I can handle a few extra customers, but my supply couldn’t. I’ll have to make a quick run before we can open back up.”

While I had them, I decided to broach the topic of my own shop. “Did either of you see anyone hanging by my shop after hours the night of the murder?”

Peony stared off in the distance, her eyes half closed.

“No,” Frank snapped. I looked at him. “I have to keep my family safe. The police had better do their job before I have to do it for them!”

This time Peony looked at Frank, and she rolled her eyes. Unimpressed with the vigilante attitude, I guessed. Or it could be she was tired of Frank going overboard being a proud papa. This was an adjustment for them, and three months hadn’t worn off Frank’s excitement.

“Thanks anyway, Frank,” I said, about to move on.

“Hold on.” He dug into his pocket, and I expected him to bring out something useful to my investigation. Instead he handed me a crumpled coupon that would expire in two days. Buy six donuts for the price of four. Great.

“Thanks so much,” I said, and the family moved off down the street.

As I watched them go, I spotted Inna exiting the bookstore with a white plastic bag hanging from her fingers. The bookstore’s logo was emblazoned in forest green on the side of the bag. She saw me and stopped, waited for the Trevor family to climb into their car and pull off then jogged my way. I met her at the edge of the gym’s property. I didn’t run because my feet were ready to give out.

“What are you doing wandering around?” I asked her, and she blushed. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you ditch school?”

“No way. Senior half days.”

“Oh yeah. What’s up?”

She raised the bag, blushing harder. “I had to grab a few books.”

“Ohhhh,” I said. “Because books are so darn sexy.”

We both chuckled, and Inna grew serious. “Brandon isn’t the best at conversation, but whatever. He says I’m sarcastic. I don’t even know where he gets that from.”

“Who knows,” I teased.

Inna pursed her lips and folded her arms under her chest. I noticed she had painted her nails black after I had seen her last. Then I realized both pinkies were of all colors pink. How did Brandon take her, I wondered? Was he intrigued, or had he been put off when he described her personality? Since Inna didn’t appear discouraged, I didn’t figure so.

She peered over her shoulder in the direction Frank and Peony had disappeared. “They’re all pissy because they’re one of the couples the sheriff wants to come for questioning.”

I gaped at her. “Who? The Trevors?”

“Yep.” Inna grinned. “I heard about it when I was going to go in early. Frank thinks he can replace me with Randall. No way, man. I’ve been here three years, and no new kid’s going to shove me out of my position.”

I shook my head at how fast she’d switched subjects and how quickly her temperament transformed. “Slow down. First, you recommended Randall, didn’t you? Because you had school?”

“Yeah, but Frank’s been complaining I mouth off too much to the customers. He’s just trying to blame me.”

“Blame you for what?”

“For why they have to talk to the sheriff.”

Now I was royally confused. I took her hand and led her to the end of the street. Two blocks south, the town had built a small square with trees and grass where some of the smaller festivals took place. Benches galore littered the area, but my feet would not go that far. The bench on Main and South was fine. We sat, and as my feet thanked me, I faced Inna.

“Okay, let’s start over,” I said. “Why would Frank blame you for anything?”

She sighed and eyeballed a woman striding past. After we were alone and no one was within earshot, Inna spoke. “Okay, first, for a while now, Frank has been on my case about mouthing off to the customers. You know how he acts like that Hole is some gourmet shop.”

She rolled her eyes, and I had to agree.

“Well, I’ve been telling him right back that I add personality to it and that no one could choke down his disgusting coffee if I didn’t first insult their tie to take their mind off it.”

I burst out laughing. “You didn’t tell him that.”

“I did.” She grinned. “But come on. You’ve seen them. Look at Ollie. Doesn’t he look like Bozo’s cousin?”

I snorted. “Stop! I beg you.”

She snickered again but calmed down. “Since I couldn’t come in until afternoon, and mornings are the busiest, I suggested Randall. He worked out really well this morning, and I heard it was the best test because there were like a million customers.”

“Oh yes,” I commented. “I can attest to that. I couldn’t get in the front door.”

Her teasing tone from earlier and irritation of a moment ago turned to sadness. “I like this job. I don’t want to lose it, but Frank said Randall is nicer. He said he’ll give me a little more time to change my attitude.”

“Then it’s not too late.”

She jumped to her feet and paced before the bench. “It is. I’m not some nicey nicey person like a lot of these people around here.”

I tended to think more often than not they spoke their mind, but maybe that was the circle I moved in lately.

“Just a little more time,” she grumbled.

“Did you tell him it’s your last year, and he won’t have to deal with you after this?”

“He knows.” She flopped down on the hard wood beside me and kicked her feet out. The clunky half boots had been with her all summer, along with a yellow, red, and purple pair. Her legs were bare, toned, slim legs of youth. “At first he made really great money. People came in all the time, all day. Then the restaurant in the next block started serving what they call healthy treats. My dad expanded the services of the gym and lowered the prices. Everybody started thinking they should get in better shape and eat less donuts.”

“It’s because of the heat,” I encouraged her. “In the winter, you watch. We’ll all be fat and holed up with as many donuts as our conscience will allow without meltdown. Mine is quite tolerant, I assure you.”

She chuckled. “Well, that’s why they had to speak with the sheriff. They had lost a lot of money over the last year, and I think they were in trouble.”

I considered what she was saying. Money was a common reason for murder. “How did you know this?”

“I heard them arguing—him and Peony.” She shrugged. “And like I said, he blamed me for running off the customers. Never mind the other changes around here with the restaurant and the gym.”

“Maybe he’s not as business savvy as he thinks.” Not that I was so smart, I reminded myself in silence. My personal venture was a risk too, but all businesses were. With my rattling around town, I was starting to feel like I would soon be on the losing end along with Frank. “This morning could have pulled him out, or even gotten him some new customers.”

“Who knows?” Inna seemed to have grown bored with the subject. I hurriedly asked her a few more questions.

“So the sheriff could have looked into the financial status of all Alvin’s clients to know who might have had a motive to kill him.”

“Oh, he had more than that to go on.” Inna dangled a new carrot in front of me.

“Spill,” I demanded.

“Last week Frank went to see Alvin at the bank.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” She examined a nail and then chewed on it. “I heard he asked Alvin for an extension on the deadline for their loan payment or another small loan.”

“Another loan! He can’t make his monthly payment, but he wants another loan?”

“Well, Alvin said no. That might be why he killed him.”

“Inna,” I chastised her. “First of all, we don’t know who killed Alvin. Second, I doubt Frank is stupid enough to kill Alvin because he won’t give him a loan. I mean what will that get him in the long run? A new loan officer who has no history of working with him, who will just follow the bank rules about who gets money and who doesn’t.”

She appeared irritated at my logic, but I went on.

“Also, by your own admission, the sheriff is talking to several different people.”

“Couples,” she said.

“Only couples?”

She shrugged and didn’t answer, and then I understood. Inna had heard about Frank and Peony talking to the sheriff because she worked with them. Another couple she would know about were her parents because she lived with them. I began to see how upset she was and how she’d hidden her true feelings behind a snarky attitude.

I reached out to take her hand, and she flopped down next to me on the bench. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know that,” she muttered, staring ahead toward the bookstore but probably not seeing it.

I debated back and forth whether I should ask the question hanging in my mind. Hurting Inna was the last thing I wanted to do, and if she weren’t leaning toward suspecting her parents of wrongdoing, I certainly didn’t want to guide her mind there. Curiosity or just being nosy didn’t motivate me. I wanted to ease her mind and give her peace. “Do you have reason to think your parents might be involved in Alvin Aston’s death?”

Her eyes widened, and she turned her head toward me, a blank expression on her face as if the thought had just occurred to her. Just great. I’d done what I didn’t intend to do. “It’s possible, isn’t it, Makayla?”

I opened and closed my mouth several times. “Um…”

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since I found out, and it’s worse since the sheriff has released the body.”

I gasped. “He did?”

She nodded. “Brandon works weekends sometimes with the funeral director.”

“You’re kidding?” Just how many jobs did one man need?

“No, he said his boss got the call a couple hours ago. That’s why he has to go in tomorrow to help get everything moving. Susan wants Alvin buried as soon as possible.”

Of course, I thought. I had no idea how insurance worked or inheritance, but I imagined it entailed actually burying the deceased first and then collecting their money. I pressed my lips together thinking of Susan, and my suspicions swung back in her direction. Then I recalled Inna’s fears, and confusion set in again.

“Why is the situation worse since Alvin’s body’s been released?” I asked Inna, reminding her of what she’d said.

“Because my mom keeps crying. I hate seeing her cry. She’s the happiest one, even bubblier than dad. They’re weird, but it’s always been like that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, Alvin was just her friend. She’s grieving,” I assured her. “She’ll come through, and it doesn’t mean your parents are guilty of anything.”

A hopeful expression came over Inna’s face. I hugged her, and she let me.

“I was just talking to your mom at the salon. She told me Alvin was her friend, and that he was a good man. Those aren’t the words of an evil woman. They’re the words of a person who has lost someone dear. So, no more worrying. The police have to be thorough. That’s what they do. Got it?”

“All right, fine.” She brightened. “But if they turn out to be Bonnie and Clyde, I’m getting that nose ring before I move to New York.”

I laughed. “Okay, I assume they felt the nose ring was too much?”

She extended her arms. “Like these tats weren’t. My parents are free-spirited, but I guess I push them, especially ’round here.”

“New York,” I commented.

She touched a black-tipped nail to her lips. “Mum’s the word. I accepted a partial scholarship to NYU.”

“Congratulations. I’m proud of you, but I admit I’ll miss you next year.”

“You can come visit me and show me around.”

“Let’s talk about it when the time comes.” She agreed, and we parted ways.