Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) (13 page)

“Again, people get jostled watching parades all of the time,” Pat answered. “It could have easily just been another accident.”

“Are you starting to have doubts about what we’re doing here?” I asked my brother. “Is there the slightest chance that you’re thinking that this is all in Aunt Della’s head after all?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. Cheryl Simmons is dead, and someone tried to get into the house last night after we all went to bed. I’m not about to discount either one of those things. I’m just saying that they
all
might not be related to attempts on her life.”

“What about the food poisoning?” I asked him.

“If that was attempted murder, it was botched pretty badly. Evidently Della wasn’t even that sick from it, and there’s no proof that there was anything wrong with her food in the first place.”

“Maybe not, but it’s awfully convenient that her plate was gone when she came back from the restroom, so there was no way to tell for sure one way or the other.”

“It’s like most of the other attempts she’s faced,” Pat said. “They could have
all
been earnest, for all we know. Then again, some of them could have just been coincidences.”

“But at this point, we have no way of separating fact from fancy,” I said. “What about our other suspects? Do any of the attempts fit
any
of them?”

“Well, the mayor was the one who saved Della at the parade, so that should clear him,” Pat answered.

“It was a good thing he was standing nearby.”

“Was it?” Pat asked as though something had suddenly occurred to him. “Annie, what if Davis gave her the push himself, but then he was worried that someone might have seen it happen? That would give him the opportunity to shove her and then just as much reason to grab her before she was hurt.”

“As far as we know, he could have made all of those attempts on her life,” I said as I brushed the coals away before I used the jack handle Pat had brought from my car for me to use as a lid lifter. It wasn’t technically meant to do the job, nor were the hammers or crowbars that I often used back home, but it worked fine for our purposes. The olive oil had been well absorbed, with very little residue remaining. I decided that it was time to give the interior surfaces a second coat of olive oil and another baking session. As I worked, I continued talking. “There’s one thing that bothers me about that theory. Davis wouldn’t be stupid enough to throw the murder weapon under his own deck, would he?” I asked Pat as I settled the pot back onto the fire.

As he piled more coals on the top, my brother replied, “What better place to hide it than there? No one would be under there but him.”

“But he told us we could grab all of the wood we wanted this afternoon,” I reminded my brother.

“Yes, that’s a point, but maybe he was taking a calculated risk that we wouldn’t notice it. If that’s the case, he’s going to be pretty relieved this evening when no mention is made of the firewood.”

“We might be able to use that to our advantage,” I said.

“How’s that?”

“Let’s wait until everyone is gathered around the table, and then we’ll make it a point to thank Davis for the use of his firewood from under his deck. If anyone reacts, we’ll have ourselves a solid suspect.”

“It’s risky though, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“What’s not in what we’re doing? It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“I’m game if you are,” he said. “It won’t be the first time we put ourselves out there as bait.”

“And yet I never get used to the idea,” I said with a smile. “So, Gary White is less likely as a suspect, while Davis is more of a possibility than we’d realized before. What about Chief Cameron?”

“I like him for it,” Pat said. “Don’t ask me why. There’s just something about the man that I don’t trust.”

“But you don’t have any concrete reasons to feel that way,” I said.

“No, not a one, but he’s got to be on our list.”

“Agreed. How about Serena Jefferson?”

“I can see the snowman, the shove, and the poison, but I’m not at all sure she could club Cheryl from behind,” Pat said.

“Why not? Women are just as capable of violent crime as men. It’s turned into an equal-opportunity world.”

“I’m not saying that a woman couldn’t have done it. I’m just not sure that Serena did.”

“Pat, you’ve got a dangerous blind spot there. No matter what we’ve seen in the past, you still hate thinking of women as being capable of murder, and it might end up biting you on the rear one of these days.”

“That’s why I’ve got you,” he said with a sheepish grin. “It’s your job to keep me focused and in line.”

“I’m not sure I’m up for a task as daunting as that,” I said with a laugh, “but I’ll try. Have we forgotten anyone?”

“Well, I know that we ruled out the grocery store manager, but he’s still a possibility if there’s backstory there that we’re not aware of. Besides him, I can’t think of anyone else. Do you have any dark horses that you like?”

“No,” I said. “I think we’ve covered all of our bases.” I scraped off the coals again, checked the interior of the pot, and then I took the whole thing off the fire. “I think we’re ready.”

“Excellent,” Pat said. “Do you still want to use the charcoal we bought?”

“Yes, just so we can be sure that we get an even heat. I don’t want to take any chances with so much company coming.”

“Then I’ll get the briquettes ready while you go get the food,” he said.

Chapter 15: Pat

B
y the time Annie had everything prepped in the house, I had the briquettes firing up at a nice white glow outside. Scraping aside the burning chunks of wood from our earlier fire toward the edge of the pit, I spread some of the coals in a rough circle the size of the Dutch oven’s perimeter. “What’s the ratio top to bottom you like?” I asked my sister as she approached.

“How many did you make to start with?”

“Twenty briquettes,” I said, doing a quick count.

Doing a quick calculation in her head, she said, “Put eight below and twelve on top. Heat rises, you know, so we need more coals on top than we do on the bottom.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m well aware of that fact,” I said as I made sure I had eight pieces of charcoal in place, and then I put the empty oven over the top of them. Now it was up to Annie to build the meal inside the pot before I could place the lid and add the rest of the charcoal to the top. She took thick slabs of onion, green pepper, and chunks of carrots and spread them out on the bottom. Then she added half a cup of water, along with a few spices she’d mixed in, and finally, the ribs went on top, bone side down. Coating them with half the sauce in the bottle, Annie smiled at me as she wiped her hands on a nearby paper towel. “We’re all set.”

I placed the lid on top, and then I spread the twelve remaining coals around on top of the lid. Once we had everything in place, Annie said, “We’ll need twenty more in about an hour.”

I set the timer on my cellphone. “What do we do in the meantime?”

“The first thing I’m going to do is to wash my hands properly in the sink,” Annie said. “We don’t really have to baby this meal. There’s no wind to speak of, and the outdoor temperature seems to be holding pretty steady.”

“How’s the barometric pressure doing?” I asked her with a smile.

“You laugh, but just about anything can affect the way food cooks outdoors.”

“I’m just teasing. Why don’t you go in, and I’ll stay out here and mind the fire?”

“Pat, you know that it wouldn’t kill you to spend a little of your free time with Aunt Della.”

“You’re probably right, but why take the chance?” I grinned to show that I was teasing, but I could tell that I’d pushed Annie a little too far. I’d have to back off unless I wanted another lecture, one for a class I hadn’t remembered signing up for in the first place. Fortunately, I was saved by my cellphone’s ring, and I was delighted to see that it was Jenna. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

Annie laughed after I showed her who was calling. “Saved by the bell.”

“I couldn’t have planned it any better myself,” I said. After I answered the call, I said, “Hey, stranger. How are things in Maple Crest?”

“Well, I’m up to my eyebrows in cows at the moment,” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice. Only a vet would find that amusing.

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of cows.”

“To be fair, it doesn’t take a lot of them to be surrounded. I’m waiting for the farmer to grab something for me, so I thought I’d give you a call and see how your investigation is going.” Jenna loved being a veterinarian, and she was usually the one who was too busy to talk between the two of us, so it was nice getting a call from her.

“It’s going, however slowly.”

“How’s your aunt? Are things okay on that front? I know when you left you weren’t quite sure how you were going to be able to handle that situation.”

It was a sweet way of asking how I was dealing with my long-absent aunt, but I really didn’t want to get into it over the phone. Instead, I deflected by saying, “She’s doing okay, but her best friend was found murdered yesterday, so there’s that.”

“That’s terrible!” Jenna said. “What happened?”

“The woman was struck from behind. It wasn’t enough to kill her, but it did render her unconscious. After that happened, evidently she rolled into the lake and drowned.”

“I can’t imagine how awful that must be. Your aunt must be beside herself with grief.”

“You know what? She’s really not,” I said, not fully realizing the fact until that moment. “She was pretty choked up about it yesterday, but today she seems as though she’s handling it just fine. She should still be torn up, shouldn’t she? Especially since she believes that the killing blow was meant for her all along.”

“Why on earth would she think that?” Jenna asked me.

“Cheryl, that’s her friend, was wearing Della’s jacket at night, walking home from my aunt’s house on a path rarely used that time of the evening. How would you handle it if it were your best friend?”

“Honestly, I’d be curled up in a ball on the floor crying my eyes out, but different people react to tragedy in different ways. Maybe it hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happened.”

“Or maybe she’s fully expecting the next attempt on her life to succeed,” I said. There had been something about my aunt’s behavior all day that I hadn’t been able to lay a finger on until that very moment. She’d resigned herself to being the next victim. After accepting the fact that her days, even her hours, were probably numbered, it was no wonder she was going about her business as though nothing had happened. How else could she cope with it?

“Pat, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” I said, coming out of my fog. “You’ve just given me something to think about, that’s all.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Always,” I said.

“You and Annie are being careful, aren’t you?”

“Mostly,” I said.

“Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Jenna asked me.

“Well, I didn’t feel right about lying to you. Was that the wrong choice?”

Jenna paused quite a bit then herself before she spoke again. “No, your instincts are right on the money. Pat, I’ve been lied to before by men I cared about, and I always hated it. The plain, unvarnished truth is better in my mind than the prettiest lie, no matter how much it might hurt hearing it.”

“Then we’re a good match, because I’m terrible at lying. Not enough practice, I guess.”

“Let’s keep it that way, shall we? Any idea when you’re coming home?”

“You don’t miss me by any chance, do you?”

“Only every day,” she said with a laugh.

“We just got here yesterday,” I answered, feeling the joy in my heart explode. Unlike my relationship in the past with Molly, which always seemed to be full of effort, my interactions with Jenna almost always left me smiling.

“I can’t help myself,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

“What can I say? I guess I’m just loveable.”

“I can think of one thing you could say,” she replied.

We weren’t at the “I love you” stage yet, but I knew without having to think about it what she needed to hear, which was fortunately something that I was happy enough to tell her. “I miss you, too, Jenna. My days aren’t nearly good enough without you in them.”

“That’s a good boy,” she said in a way she might praise a dog for doing the right thing. I found it charming rather than insulting, knowing how much Jenna loved all animals. “I knew you could do it.”

“I appreciate your patience,” I said.

I was about to ask her if we could get together when Annie and I got back home when she said, “Oops. Here comes Mr. Daniels. I’ve got to go. Stay safe until you can come back to me.”

It was one of the sweetest ways of saying good-bye that I could imagine, and I felt myself smiling as I answered, “I’ll do my best.” I hesitated, wanting to add something that made her feel as special as she’d just made me feel, but before I could come up with something, I realized that the line was dead. Oh, well. She knew how I felt about her, and that should be enough to hold her until I could tell her in person.

Annie spoke, and until that moment, I hadn’t even realized that she’d come back. “Wow, that must have been some phone call. I can’t remember the last time I saw that big a smile from you.”

“Have you spoken with Timothy today?” I asked her.

“No, but I know that he’s so wrapped up in his logs going up that I might as well be here if I can’t be with him. The man’s obsessed with that cabin he’s building.”

“Let me think,” I said as I scratched my chin. “Who does that sound like? Don’t tell me. Give me a second, I’ll get it.”

“I freely admit it,” Annie said. “I love my cabin in the woods.” My twin sister leaned forward over the pot and took in a deep breath. “We’re cooking now.”

“I certainly hope so,” I said. “Should we pull the picnic table over closer to the fire? I’m not sure how we’re going to seat everyone if they all show up.”

“That’s right, you didn’t hear the latest development,” Annie said.

I braced myself for more bad news. “What happened?”

“Nothing dire, so there are no worries on that account. Aunt Della unilaterally decided that we’d be dining inside this evening.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s it.”

Annie looked at me as though she was expecting some pushback, but I just nodded. “That makes sense to me. The temperature is starting to drop, and there aren’t enough seats out here anyway, let alone room to put the food that we’re going to be serving. It’s not a bad idea.”

“Wow, you really are warming up to her, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying. After all, when it comes down to it, I’m just as mature as the next guy,” I answered.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Annie replied, showing a grin to take the sting out of her comment, not that I thought she’d been taking a shot at me. After all, I agreed with her. Grown men could act like boys with the slightest provocation, and not everyone found that behavior charming.

I poked the coals again and saw that they were beginning to break apart, losing their ability to throw off the heat we needed. “Should I start another batch of charcoal?”

“That’s probably not a bad idea,” she said, and I pulled twenty more briquettes out of the bag. At home I would have used my briquette chimney, a neat sheet metal contraption that allowed the coals to light and burn at the optimal rate, but here I just stacked them in a pyramid and lit them as best I could. Soon enough they were afire, and ten minutes later, they were ready to put in place of the spent ones that had now devolved into white ash.

“In half an hour, we’ll need ten more,” she said.

“To brown the top of the ribs, right?” I asked.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at this, too, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m related to someone who’s an expert in outdoor Dutch oven cooking. Some of it was bound to rub off on me sooner or later.”

“That’s always been my hope and dream,” Annie said with a faint smile. “Why don’t you throw another log onto the fire? I’d like to keep it going until we’re ready to go in.”

I did as she suggested, ready for any excuse to add to the flames. I was glad that I’d pushed the pile of burning logs to one side, so we’d still have that heat to warm up to. The briquettes were nice, and they were certainly dependable, but there was something about a real fire with hard wood outside that I loved; whether it was the radiant heat, the leaping flames, the delightful smells, or the wood smoke leaping up to the sky, I couldn’t say. All in all, it was a nice place to be, despite a murder having occurred so close by, and so recently at that, and I could see why our aunt loved her home and why the mayor had moved next door, in spite of, or because of, his feelings for Della.

I was about to ask Annie something else about our list of suspects when I heard someone calling out to us down along the lake path.

It appeared that our chance to discuss what happened next was over.

We had company, and based on who it was, I knew that we needed to watch what we said from there on out.

“I see you found the firewood,” Davis Morton said as he approached. As he warmed his hands over the fire, he looked at the Dutch oven and the charcoal briquettes on it. “You know, when you told me you were using charcoal, I thought you were crazy. I don’t know why, but I just figured that you’d be cooking with the wood, too.”

“We can do that, and often at home we do just that,” Annie explained, “but this way we’ll get a consistent heat throughout the process. Not that we aren’t enjoying your wood, too. It makes a great fire.”

“I’m happy to have someone burn some of it,” he said. “I haven’t had a fire in weeks, myself.”

Was he sharing a little trivial information with us, or was he trying to alibi himself if we’d found the murder weapon? I couldn’t possibly know yet, but I wanted to find out. “Don’t you like having a fire?” I asked him.

“Sure, outside it’s fun, but I hate the smell of wood smoke in the house. I had a fire at Christmas, but the hearth has been stone cold ever since, and come to think of it, I haven’t had one outside, either.” He glanced down at the flames. “It seems to be doing a pretty good job of it, isn’t it?”

“Grade A,” I said. “It must be tough living in that big old house by yourself.”

“No more than it is for your aunt to be alone in her quaint little cottage,” the mayor said. “Besides, I manage to keep myself busy.”

“I’ll bet you do,” I said. “It’s a shame someone had to ruin this tranquil place with murder.”

“What are you going to do? The world’s gotten to be a dangerous place,” he said calmly.