A Crouton Murder (8 page)

I took the elevator to her floor and forced my reluctant feet to approach her door. My will to get this issue out of the way propelled me forward. How would the conversation go? I was about to find out and knocked on Seanmhair’s door.

When she beckoned me in, it was with a slight smile and questioning eyes. I took a seat in the tiny living room and waited for her to do the same.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’ve come to apologize for being short with you over Scotland. I mean it, Seanmhair, I’m very sorry.”

“Bah, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I know I was pressuring you and it was unfair of me to do so. Your words cut me to the quick, but I had it coming. Never fear, Melina. I won’t leave you here in America alone. If there’s a move on the horizon, we’ll do it together.”

I went to her loveseat, hugged her heartily, and heard her soft laughter. When I drew away, I saw the huge smile on her face. “I was feeling guilty for having been a nag, Melina. I’m sorry, too. Don’t let us have another misunderstanding like this, okay?”

I nodded as relief flooded my system. I smiled at the sweet woman who’d given her life to me throughout childhood. All these years after my parents died so unexpectedly in a car crash, I’d grown to love her like a mother. I promised myself silently that nothing would come between us again.

Seanmhair served me a cup of tea. We chatted while she readied for her date. I lingered long enough to meet the new man in her life. Mr. Graham, white-haired, blue-eyed, and gingerly in his gait, came in with a wide grin and a sparkle in his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile when he shook my hand, kissed Seanmhair’s cheek, and asked if she was ready to go. The transformation in my grandmother’s personality left me wondering if she’d fallen in love with the still handsome Scotsman. She was actually giddy. I hid my smile, said my goodbyes, and left them at the front door.

My spirits soared. The sun shined on me as I crossed the parking lot and life was good. I drove home with happy thoughts, until I saw a man loitering near the front of Tingly Tarots, BettyJo’s reading shop. Dang, was this her stalker? I waited until the red light changed and scooted across the intersection in my Fiat. I’d nearly reached the row of shops when Franklin Seever pulled to the curb one shop down from BettyJo’s. The lurker hurried to enter Franklin’s car. Once inside, they drove east, farther into Providence’s historic east side of the city.

Bewildered, I swung into the rear lot, parked my car, and scanned the other cars parked there. BettyJo’s sat among them. Had the stranger harmed her? Maybe even killed her? Panic stricken, I ran across the lot, leaped the stairs two at a time, and headed for the rear entry of her shop.

Bursting through the door, I heard BettyJo reading someone’s cards. She never acknowledged my presence, or the fact that I’d entered her shop at all. I backed out, quietly closed the door, and slunk back to my bakery. At the least, my friend wasn’t dead. It was a red-letter-day all the way round. Seanmhair wasn’t angry with me, I had a date with the man of my dreams, and my best friend was safe. The thing that niggled me was Franklin Seever’s actions.

Bread supplies filled the surfaces of both work tables. I dumped ingredients into the floor mixer and got the Boule bread started. There’d be enough time to mix a variety of breads before Aidan arrived. My first batch had finished mixing and rested in a huge bowl to rise while I began the next.

The door flew open, BettyJo marched in with a thunderous expression on her face, and my heart sank. “What the hell were you thinking? You knew I had clients all day,” she exclaimed.

I put my hands up and said, “I can explain. Just give me a minute to get this dough going and I’ll tell you what happened.”

She plunked onto a stool and waited. I set the mixer to run and took a seat across from her.

“This better be good,” BettyJo warned.

“I’m sorry, I really am. There’s a good reason I burst in without warning. What does your stalker look like?”

Surprise covered her face. “He’s tallish, wears a hoodie sweatshirt and a ball cap. I never get to see his face or hair. His pants are baggy, too, and hang down a bit. Makes me want to run up to him and yank them up to his friggin’ neck,” BettyJo remarked.

I nodded, I was right, he was her stalker. “I caught the red light at the intersection across the way. While I waited, I saw a man, like you just described, lingering outside your shop. Before the light changed, and I could get closer, I saw him picked up by someone and they drove off.”

Her mouth agape, she asked, “Do you know who picked him up?”

I hesitated, then said, “That’s where it gets tricky. Your father picked him up.”

“You’re joking, right? My father wouldn’t set a stalker on me. Good grief.”

“I’m not sure what the deal is, but I’d be on the phone inviting your father and his new-found friend here for a chat.”

“That bastard. I’ve been scared out of my mind, and all the time my father’s been paying some asshole to stalk me? What the hell is wrong with him?” BettyJo yelled.

“I know this comes as a shock and all, but you need to calm down. There’s no use in getting angry until we know the facts. Give him a call. Tell him you need to speak with him in person. We were going to gang up on him anyway, so now is the perfect time.”

The phone in her hand, BettyJo dialed her father’s number. She took a few deep breaths and waited until he answered.

“Dad, could you come over right away? I have to talk to you, it’s important.”

She waited a few seconds and then insisted, “Now, Dad, right now. I don’t care what else is going on in your life. I need you here, immediately.”

Abruptly she cut off the conversation by pressing the button on the phone. She slammed it onto the worktable and huffed like a dragon. I truly expected to see flames and smoke come from her mouth and nostrils. Yep, BettyJo could be formidable. Maybe the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree on that count.

“He’s on his way,” she snapped.

To change the subject and soothe her anger, I said, “If you’re hungry, there’s a couple empanadas in the fridge. Warm them in the microwave and I’ll have one with you while we wait.”

“Good idea. I haven’t eaten all day.” BettyJo checked her watch, went toward the fridge, and moments later brought heated empanadas to the table.

We ate in silence, each with our own thoughts. I didn’t know what to expect, and I was certain BettyJo didn’t, either. We’d gotten done at the same time and spoke at once. I laughed, and said, “You first.”

“I’m curious as to why my father would sic a creep on me. Maybe to scare me into returning home to live with him? He does tend to try and control me. No wonder my mother walked out. Christ, she probably couldn’t take his autocratic behavior.” BettyJo shook her head and sighed.

A knock on the door produced Porter Anderson. My day took a faster downturn as I stared at his approach.

With a glance at me, BettyJo said, “I’ll wait for my father and then bring him over here. Whether he likes it or not.”

Porter gave her a keen look before he focused on me. I gave him a shrug, told BettyJo that I’d be waiting and watched her scoot out the door.

“You’ve invited Mr. Seever here?” Porter asked.

“More like BettyJo summoned him with no chance of refusal. She’s had a stalker problem as of late. I wanted to pass that by you, but you haven’t been around. Vinnie Esposito recommended that I tell you about the guy who’s been following BettyJo and get your take on how to handle it.” I went on to explain the man, adding the scene I’d witnessed earlier, and BettyJo’s demand of Mr. Seever’s visit.

Porter smirked, then turned serious. “I think I’ll stick around for that. I wanted to speak with Seever, anyway. He hasn’t been willing to make time for me, at work or at home, so this will be perfect. Besides, he might need protection from the likes of you two.”

“So, what brings you by, then?” I asked with a heaping measure of curiosity. I’d managed to get a few batches of dough ready, and knew Aidan’s arrival time was close. I still had to change clothes.

He opened his mouth, but abruptly closed it when BettyJo and her father entered my kitchen. I wiped my hands on a towel, covered the bowls, and invited everyone upstairs to my apartment.

Mr. Seever looked affronted, and about to refuse, when BettyJo took his arm and ushered him forward. Porter followed me as I followed them. We’d taken seats, though Porter remained standing, when BettyJo blurted, “What the hell are you thinking by setting a stalker on me, Dad?”

“What are you talking about? Has Melina been filling your head with nonsense?”

His mean-eyed stare landed on me. Unwilling to let anger drive me, I remarked drily, “I saw him get into your car earlier today. After describing him to BettyJo, she confirmed he was the man who’s been following her everywhere. Really, Mr. Seever, you should be ashamed.”

His mouth hung open for a second. “Is that why you’ve called the police? Because I gave someone a ride?” he blustered as he glanced at each of us.

“You really should move home, away from this woman and these other people who rent shops here. Such riff-raff, BettyJo, I brought you up better than this,” Seever directed at his daughter.

Her face filled with anger, BettyJo stood up, paced the room for a moment, and then said, “You didn’t though, did you? Bring me up, that is. Instead, you shuffled me off to a boarding school. Melina is the best friend I’ve ever had, the shop owners are good folks, and you owe me an explanation. Now give it up.”

His attitude belligerent, Franklin Seever pressed his lips together. That’s when Porter stepped forward.

“You’ll give her that explanation or I’ll haul you to the station and you can give it there. Do you have any idea how frightened your daughter has been? Melina’s right, Mr. Seever, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

He jumped from his seat and swung in a circle, taking in the room and us. Seever ran a hand through his hair. “BettyJo, it was never my intention to harm you. I want what’s best for you, and that means living at home with me.”

“And? What was this guy supposed to do? Jump me? What the hell, Dad?”

Porter watched in silence, his body tense, but his face bland. He was ready for action if needed. I leaned back and waited for the rest of the scene to unfold. It was so surreal, I might have been watching a soap opera. Not that I’d ever done that.

“He was guarding you.” His hands open, palms up, Mr. Seever confessed, “I didn’t want him to scare you and frankly, I was sure you’d never notice him. After your landlady was killed and things here went awry, I thought you should have protection.”

“I hardly call a hooded creeper dressed in baggy pants any sort of protection that I’d willingly welcome. This guy doesn’t exactly fit into the neighborhood, you know. He appeared to be following me, acted like a lurker, and then I find out you picked him up in front of the shop next door. What was I supposed to think?” BettyJo demanded.

“I’m sorry you’re upset, but I do know what’s best for you,” Seever insisted.

“No, Dad, you don’t. I’m not twelve. I’m an adult who runs a steady business that supports me well. I don’t want to be a banker or top executive like you are. What’s more, I couldn’t be happier with my life. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He shook his head. “You could be so much more than you think. I don’t understand, but if that’s what you want, then fine. I’ll leave it alone.”

“There’s something else I want to know, Dad. What’s with you and Corinda? Is she after you or your money or what?”

I held my breath when his face took on a look of anger. The skin around his eyes appeared pinched and his lips pressed tightly together. Maybe he’d answer or maybe he wouldn’t. It was then that I glanced at Porter. His attention was on Seever, as though there were no others in the room. I let my pent up breath out slowly.

“She’s my mistress. Nothing more. I have no interest in marriage,” he answered.

“How is she associated with Ezra, then?” BettyJo asked.

I gave Porter a sideways glance and waited. He, too, was interested in Seever’s answer.

“She’s been doing some checking for me. Ezra has run into some financial problems at his bank. It seemed prudent that I know the status of his situation without having to ask him. Especially since he’d taken some sizable loans out from my own bank.”

“So she’s sleeping with you both?” I asked feeling like I’d entered a 007 Bond film.

“Crudely put, but yes. To gather the information I needed, she went to extremes. It paid off.”

Unable to believe my ears, I sat stunned into silence. My world consisted of daily bread, nice customers, and good neighbors. Life was different in Franklin Seever’s universe. BettyJo must have had the same thought because she looked at me with raised brows and rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Seever, you’ve just admitted to corporate espionage, which is a federal crime with a minimum of ten years in prison, among other things. Franklin Seever, you’re under arrest.”

I gawked at Porter, who handcuffed BettyJo’s father faster than I could blink my eyes. In shock, BettyJo had her hands on her cheeks. “Wait a minute, I’m not done yet,” she pleaded with Porter who had Seever by the arm, ready to take him away.

“Go ahead, ask what you want, I’ll wait,” Porter murmured.

“Do you know who poisoned you?” BettyJo asked her father.

“You both did,” he answered with a look at me and BettyJo. “Unknowingly, of course. There was some type of oil in the croutons that I’m allergic to. I could taste it the moment I put the crouton in my mouth. It was too late by then, of course. I figured if I played the whole thing the way I had, it would have thrown suspicion onto Melina. That way you might have come back home and let me mold you into a banking guru, instead of a cheap fortune teller.”

I sucked in a breath at his words. He’d have thrown me to the wolves without a qualm to achieve his own goals and wreck his daughter’s life, as well. I wondered if he had all his marbles or if some had gotten away from him. His insult toward BettyJo’s career hadn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, either.

Her movement was quick. Before Porter could stop her, BettyJo slapped her father hard. The resounding smack she administered to his face snapped his head to the side and left a bright red mark on his cheek.