A Killer Cake (3 page)

“Did the cannon kill him?” a voice from the
crowd yelled out.

“I’m not here to answer your questions; I’m
here to ask them.”

That didn’t go over well with the crowd, and
the sheriff knew it. He held up his hands as more folks clamored
for information, until finally, Sheriff Croft said, “Settle down,
folks. I can tell you that nothing was fired directly from the
cannon. Roy was not hit with any flying projectiles, as far as we
can tell.”

“Did the sound of the explosion kill him,
then? I understand he had a bad heart,” someone else called
out.

“As I said, that hasn’t been determined at
this time.”

“Well, did the man die of natural causes, or
did someone murder him?” another voice from nearby asked.

“We’re not sure yet, but until we know for
sure one way or the other, we’re treating this as a crime scene of
homicide. Now, that’s the last question I’m going to ask. We’ve
already got the area cordoned off, so if everyone will go to the
barrier at Main Street, we’ll take your names and contact
information, and then you’re free to go.”

“We don’t want to leave,” someone shouted
from the back. “We came all the way here to have a party.”

The sheriff shook his head. “I don’t know if
it’s had time to sink in yet, but a man died here, people. Show a
little respect.”

As he was leaving the stage, there were a few
whispers, but no one else had the nerve to speak up. Why would
anyone want to continue the party after what had just happened so
publicly to Roy? I was the last person there who could be called a
fan of the man, but I had no desire to go on with the festivities.
I turned to Greg and said, “Well, it appears that the festival is
over. Should we go back and open the diner early?”

“We can’t,” my husband said as he began to
lead me toward the stage. “The sheriff wants to talk to us both,
remember?”

“I don’t know about you, but I really don’t
want to rehash what happened,” I said. “It makes me sound so
petty.”

“Regardless, we don’t have any choice. We
don’t want Sheriff Croft coming to the diner looking for us later,
do we?”

I visualized the sheriff driving up in his
cruiser with the lights flashing and the siren wailing, but even
though I knew that he most likely wouldn’t do anything quite that
dramatic, it did leave an indelible image in my mind. “No, you’re
right. Let’s go. We might as well get this over with.”

It wasn’t that painless, though. There were
quite a few people in front of us waiting to speak with the
sheriff, and I wondered just how many people Roy Thompson had
angered in Jasper Fork recently.

When it was finally our turn, the sheriff
frowned at me as Greg and I approached. “I wondered if you two were
going to come forward.”

“I know that it’s unfortunate that Roy and I
had words earlier, but I was nowhere near him when he died. In
fact, I was all the way across the square when the cannon went off.
Did that firing have anything to do with him dying? Those poor old
vets will never be able to forgive themselves if they ended up
giving Roy a heart attack.”

“I’ll know more later,” the sheriff said,
“but you heard me before. I’m going on the assumption that whatever
happened to Roy was done intentionally. Victoria, I heard that you
threw the man out of the diner last night, and then you have an
argument with him right in front of me not an hour before he died.
What kind of vendetta did you have against him?”

“It wasn’t anything that dire,” I explained.
“He came in last night, his usual cranky self, complaining about
Jenny Hollister and the food she was serving him. I had finally had
enough, so I threw him out. It’s my right, after all.”

The sheriff nodded as he jotted down the gist
of our conversation in his ever present little notebook. “Greg, did
you witness any of this?”

My husband nodded. “I wasn’t about to miss
it, to be honest with you. Sheriff, it was a long time coming, and
everybody knows it.”

“Who else was in the diner when it happened?”
he asked.

I gave him a list of names, and he diligently
wrote them all down.

“Now, about today,” the sheriff said, quickly
shifting gears.

“It was really just a continuation of our
argument last night,” I said. “I didn’t want him to have that cake,
and when I saw that plate in his hands, I just snapped.” The moment
I said it, I realized that my choice of words could have been
better.

“What Victoria meant to say was that she just
wanted to enforce her ban,” Greg added, trying to do some damage
control. “Honestly, she didn’t snap at all. As a matter of fact,
when we walked away from Roy in front of you, we didn’t see him
again until he died.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true,” I said.

I didn’t know which man looked more surprised
by my statement, my husband or the sheriff. Greg spoke first. “You
were with me the entire time, and we never got near him again.”

“I didn’t talk to him, but we
did
make
eye contact across the square just before he died. He took a bite,
and then he had the nerve to smile at me.”

“What did you do?” the sheriff asked.

“Believe it or not, I just turned away.”

“But you didn’t say anything to him, is that
correct?”

“That’s correct,” I said, echoing the
sheriff’s word choice.

“May we go now?” Greg asked.

“What’s the rush?” the sheriff asked.

“Well, since the celebration is over now, we
thought we might go ahead and open the diner back up. There’s no
reason in the world that we shouldn’t, is there?”

“None that I can think of,” the sheriff said.
As we were walking away, he added, “You aren’t planning on any
trips out of town anytime soon, are you?”

“Why, are we suspects?” I asked as I turned
back toward him.

“I’m just gathering information right now,”
he said.

“Then feel free to write this down,” I said,
a little louder than I needed to. “We didn’t touch Roy Thompson,
and we certainly didn’t kill him.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” the sheriff
said, nonplussed by my declarative statement.

“We’ll be at The Charming Moose, just like we
are every day, for the foreseeable future,” I said a little
softer.

“Victoria, there’s no way you’re going to
keep your nose out of this, is there?” the sheriff asked.

“What do you think?” I turned to reply, and
then my husband and I left.

As Greg and I walked back to the diner, I
asked my husband, “Is it possible that he really thinks we had
something to do with Roy’s death?”

“It’s too soon to say,” Greg said. “Can we
blame him if he does? We
did
have a pretty public argument
with the man.”

“Don’t try to sugarcoat it, Greg.
I
had the argument, and no one else.”

“It could just as easily have been me,” my
sweet husband said. “Remember? If you hadn’t stopped me, I’d be the
one on the hot seat right now.”

“But it wasn’t you, was it?” I asked. “I’m
just hoping that Roy dropped dead from a heart attack, and not
something more ominous.”

“I’m sure we all do, but why do you feel that
way in particular?”

I shrugged as I explained, “If he died from
foul play, I’m bound to be the first suspect on the sheriff’s list,
and if that’s the case, Moose and I are going to have to solve
another murder if we’re going to keep me out of jail.”

“Well, I have no desire to see you only once
a week during visiting hours, so I suggest you and your grandfather
go ahead and come up with a game plan, just in case. He’ll help,
won’t he?”

“Are you kidding? He’ll be chomping at the
bit. You know how much he loves a good murder investigation.”

“Even when his granddaughter is the main
suspect in the case?”

“I’d have to believe that it only gives him
more incentive,” I said.

“Well, you can ask him yourself right now,
because here he comes,” Greg said. “I’m going to go ahead and get
things ready to reopen. I’m sure the two of you have quite a few
things you need to talk about. I love you,” he said as he added a
quick peck.

“I love you right back,” I said, and then I
turned to Moose. It meant the world to me to have Greg’s support,
but right now, I needed my grandfather’s active assistance if I was
going to prove that I didn’t kill Roy Thompson, no matter how
attractive that very act may have seemed in my daydreams the day
before.

“Well, that’s bad luck,” Moose said as he met
me. “Talk about bad timing.”

“I know,” I said. “Hey, if we’re lucky, he
died from natural causes and I don’t have anything to worry
about.”

“I hate to be the one to convey bad news, but
there’s not a chance. Do you know Linda Taggart?”

“Not right off the top of my head. Why? Who
is she?”

“She’s a big shot forensic toxicologist
teaching at UNC Asheville,” he said. “Linda’s a big fan of local
celebrations, and we met a few years ago at Fire in the
Mountains.”

“The blacksmith festival in Spruce Pine?” I
asked. “How did you happen to meet there?”

“We were watching a master blacksmith
demonstrate how to make leaves out of iron, and we struck up a
conversation. You know me. I seem to accumulate friends like some
folks collect stamps or coins. Anyway, I was talking to her when
Roy collapsed, and she offered the sheriff her services. He was
game, so I managed to tag along when she examined Roy. It’s not
official yet, they’ll have to run a battery of tests, but it’s her
opinion that someone poisoned Roy.”

It was the worst news I could have gotten,
and it must have shown on my face. “Moose, I’m in real trouble
here.”

“Why is that? Because The Charming Moose
supplied the cake that probably killed him? Victoria, a dozen folks
could have poisoned that piece after it left our hands and made its
way into Roy’s. Sure, it doesn’t look good, but there are plenty
enough other suspects so we shouldn’t be the only ones under a
cloud.”

“Moose, you don’t understand. I grabbed that
cake from him right in front of the sheriff, and I had it ten
seconds before he yanked it back. I could have easily poisoned the
piece he was eating in the time I had it in my possession.”

Moose nodded gravely. “I didn’t realize that.
I suppose that means that we’d better go ahead and get
started.”

“Then you’ll help me investigate?” I
asked.

“Trust me, granddaughter; nobody, and I mean
nobody, had better try to stop me,” he said, and I was happy yet
again that Moose wasn’t just my grandfather; he was one of my
closest allies as well.

Chapter 3

“Should we go to Roy’s office before the
sheriff has a chance to visit it?” I asked. I knew that Roy
Thompson kept a space not a hundred yards from where we were
talking. I had no idea what he did all day, though. After all,
since most of his holdings were in land, I wouldn’t think that any
of it would need much handling on a daily basis, but Roy was proud
of his office.

“It’s as good an idea as any,” Moose said, so
we walked in that direction. The facade of the building was done in
weathered brick, and massive columns stood out front. As a matter
of fact, they were a little too gaudy for my taste, but it was
clear that pretension was important to Roy. As we walked through
the massive oaken doors, I felt like whispering. It was that solemn
a place.

That was lost the second we entered the
building, though.

“A deal’s a deal, and I’m not about to let
him take advantage of me. Tell your boss that I’ll see him in court
before I let that happen!” James Manchester snapped as he nearly
knocked us both over on his way out of the office. James
occasionally ate at the diner, and he normally had a smile and a
friendly word for me, but I doubted that he’d even recognized me he
was so steamed at the moment. Mumbling a vague apology in our
direction, James slammed the doors open and left.

“What put a bur under his saddle, do you
suppose?” Moose asked me.

“I don’t have a clue,” I said as we
approached Kelly Raven. Kelly was a dark-haired beauty a few years
younger than I was, and while we’d never been friends, there had
never been any reason for there to be any animosity between us.

At least not yet.

“Hi, Kelly. James was certainly in a huff,
wasn’t he?”

“It’s not as bad as it must look to you. He
and Mr. Thompson both have tempers, so the moment they became
partners in their little venture, I knew I was in for trouble. From
what Mr. Manchester said earlier, I was under the impression that
you weren’t exactly on good terms with my employer at the moment,
either.”

Kelly smiled brightly at us as she spoke, and
I realized that no one had told her about her boss yet. Should
Moose and I break it to her now, or instead, try to mine a little
information first? I was still trying to decide when my grandfather
decided to take matters into his own hands.

“We all have our moments,” Moose said softly.
“Has anyone been by to speak with you yet?”

She clearly didn’t understand the nature of
his question. “We’ve had a few folks stop in, but with the
celebration, it’s been rather quiet.”

“I can’t believe that no one told you,” Moose
said.

There was a hint of alarm in her eyes now.
“Tell me what?”

“Roy died less than half an hour ago,” I
said, watching her carefully. I’d been hoping for some kind of
reaction, but all she did was look at me to see if I was
joking.

“I’m afraid it’s true,” Moose said. “He’s
gone.”

The news finally started to sink in, and
Kelly pulled a tissue from her drawer and held it to her chest.
“Was it his heart?”

“Why, was he having problems with his
health?” I asked.

“No, but for a man his age, it’s a logical
question, isn’t it?”