craftfield 01 - secrets untold (9 page)

“I’m all right.” Suddenly, she felt shy and couldn’t think of what to say. She’d invited him and now her mind refused to give her conversation starters except her mom’s murder case. And she wanted to get to know Jarred and not harp on the investigation.

“If you’re interested, I’ve got tickets to a comedy club next weekend. Jerry Martin.”

“Oh, I love him.” Her shoulders relaxed. “I laugh so hard whenever I hear his jokes.”

“I always catch his show when he’s in town. Met him backstage once. He listened to everyone, taking time to pose for photos and sign autographs, even listened to a thirteen year old boy who wanted to be comedian too tell the worst jokes I’ve ever heard.” He smiled. “Martin was patient though and laughed when he should’ve then gave the kids tips to make the jokes better. He did it in a way that the kid got excited and not upset.”

“That was nice.” She’d always liked the comedian and it was comforting to hear how nice he was in person.

“Are you ready to order?” their waiter asked.

“Sorry.” Jarred picked up the menu. “I’ve been enjoying her company and haven’t even looked.”

The waiter left and Jarred set the menu aside after only glancing at it for a second.

Did he not like the selection? “Aren’t you hungry?” She nodded to the unread menu before him.

“Ravenous.” His brown eyes darkened. Or was that a trick of the light?

Heat coursed through her, and she took a sip of her water. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Steak. And you?”

Her gaze roved over his form as he waved the waiter over. He was dressed in jeans and an olive-colored T-shirt that showed off his muscles and stretched across his chest.

“Just a salad and salmon.” She set menu aside.

“May I take your orders?” their waiter asked.

Lily gave her order.

“And I'll take the steak, rare. No garlic sauce.”

The waiter left, and Lily smiled. “Rare steak and no garlic? You're not a vampire, are you?”

For a split second, a look of shock crossed his features. Then he laughed. “Of course not. I can tolerate a little garlic, like on the pizza we shared.” He winked. “But the sauce here is too concentrated.”

“Oh.” Did he want to avoid too much garlic because he might kiss her? A young woman about her age walked in with her mom. The two were chatting and Lily’s eyes welled with tears, but she forced them back.

“Hey, I know not finding the person responsible for the death of your mom is hard.” He placed his hand over hers. “It could've been a random thief. A horrible tragedy. But you're never gonna heal if you can't accept that. And I don't think your mom would want you to be hurting.”

“
No, you're right.” Even though she knew he was, she couldn't stop herself. There had to be something everyone was missing. Some clue to identify who the killer was. If only her mom had gone with her idea to put security cameras up in the shop. But her mom had said, “If someone is that desperate to steal from an ice cream shop, then they are truly down on their luck and can take all the ice cream they can carry.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can come to the station and look through the surveillance tapes of the area. But the camera is old and the film quality grainy, and it only got the front quarter of the area. We're sure the thief came from the back parking lot, out of range. Whether he planned it that way or it was coincidence, we don't know.”

His concern warmed her. “Thanks, I'd like that.”

The waiter brought their food. Lily took a bite of her salad and closed her eyes. The savory dressing was the right amount, coating the lettuce precisely. Quickly, she took a bite of the salmon. This spicy, savory sauce hit her mouth. God, why hadn't she tried this before? Damn, tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away.

“You okay? We can get you something else.” His hazel eyes shifted in the candlelight, almost taking on a reddish hue.

She blinked, and his eyes morphed back. Must be a trick of the light. “No, it’s really good.”

“You didn't look like it was.” He cocked his head to the side.

“Sorry. My mom and I came here once. It was the end of the first summer the shop opened. We'd paid all our bills for the month and had money left over.” She pushed a piece of salmon through the sauce. “Usually, she saved every dime, and our idea of eating out was splitting a burger at Nick’s Bar.”

She popped the salmon into her mouth. After chewing, she cut another piece. “Guess she wanted something special, and I was pouting because my friends were going to a concert in New York that night, but I couldn't go. The shop was too important to her to be shorthanded over the weekend, even with my two aunts helping.” She took a sip of her water. “She'd asked me to try this salad or the salmon, but I stubbornly refused. Having this now is kind of my way of connecting with her.” She shrugged. “Crazy, right?”

“Not at all. Your mother wouldn't want you living with regret. She'd want you to live life and experience it to the fullest.”

“How about you? Have you ever regretted anything?” Lily asked and took another bite of salmon.

Jarred chewed his steak, then said, “I could never get enough speed. The bike helped, feeling all that power and force underneath me… it was exhilarating. But then when I had my motorcycle accident, I thought my career as a cop catching bad guys was over. But then this opportunity as a deputy came up and gave me a second chance.”

“You were lucky.” Lily took the last bite of her salmon and pushed both of her empty plates to the side. “I had a friend in high school that was in a motorcycle accident and didn't survive, even though he was wearing safety gear.”

“It can be dangerous, but I guess that's why I like the thrill of speed and all that power underneath you.”

Around them, the tables emptied as they ate and talked. Soon, Lily checked her watch. Wow, the place was going to be closing in less than an hour. She hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.

Their waiter collected their plates. “Would you care for any desserts? We have a fabulous chocolate soufflé and a crème brûlée.”

Jarred gestured toward her. “Would you like anything?”

“No thanks,” Lily said. “I'm stuffed.”

"Just the check." Jarred smiled and returned his attention to her.

"Thanks again for meeting me." Heat pressed into her cheeks.

"Sure. I think we have a connection. And I’d like to see you again.”

“I’d like that too.” Her toes curled into her boots at the idea, fighting the desire to leap across the table and into his lap.

Classical music flowed from the speakers and softened her muscles. The temperature in the restaurant felt like it had risen thirty degrees, and she took a gulp of her water.

She studied Jarred as he lounged in his chair, his hooded gaze locked on her. He hardly knew her, but had kept her company back in the ice cream store, come to her with the news about the case, and even now, he attended dinner. He didn’t have to, but maybe he liked her. She sure liked him.

Would her mom have approved? Probably. Her previous boyfriend, Michael, had been rebellious and daring. Yet, she sensed Jarred had a wild side, one that he kept hidden. The motorcycle and the way he talked about it gave her that impression. She wanted to know more about him. What he enjoyed… what made him laugh… did he want to kiss her?

“Your check.” The waiter placed the paper between them and Jarred seized it.

“Hey, I’ll pay my share.” She opened her purse. “I invited you, remember?”

Jarred cocked an eyebrow. “You can grab the next one. My meal was way more than yours anyway.”

She didn’t have much money, in all honesty, so she’d let it go his way this time. “Fine.”

He pulled out his wallet and flipped through bills. The second bill, one dollar, peeked out from the pile at her. It had a pink zigzag on the edge. Her heart hammered in her chest. No, it couldn’t be.

“Wait, can I see that?”

“My wallet?” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m still paying for our meal even if you try to stop me.”

“No, the dollar bill.” Gingerly, she pulled the bill out and gaped. It was the same one her mom had displayed years ago in that damn green and gold frame on the wall of the ice cream shop. It had to be the same one. In the left corner was the same permanent marker zigzag. The same last six digits of the serial number, 33170D.

“Where did you get that?”

He paled seeing what was in her hand, but said, “What do you mean?”

“This.” She waved the one at him. “This was in my mom’s shop. Framed. It was the first tip we received when we opened. Where did you get it?”

His voice became a mixture of sympathy and firmness. “Many times people see clues that aren’t really there when they are desperate for closure after a death.”

“No. I memorized the last six digits of the serial number. This is the same bill.” She knew her voice was rising, but she couldn’t help it.”

His expression grew guarded. “I guess the thief spent it and it ended up with me. Or you're remembering the serial number incorrectly. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“I’m keeping this.” She folded the money and stuck in her purse. She had to put this into perspective. Was he right and it was just a bizarre coincidence? Or maybe the thief had dropped it and Jarred just happened to pick it up off the street, unaware that it was her mom’s?

Chapter Twelve

Knuckling her lower back, Lily frowned at the ice cream shop’s floor. Dirt and debris littered the tiles. She hadn’t swept since… her throat tightened. With unshed tears burning the backs of her eyes, she grabbed the broom.

Work had kept her busy all day, thankfully. But now that evening was approaching, the mob had died down to a trickle. Deputy Garza hadn’t called her since their dinner last night. Was it because of her questioning him regarding the dollar bill? She didn’t think he had anything to do with her mom’s murder, but it didn’t explain how or why he had the same money note that had been in the picture frame.

She bent, sweeping the rubble into a dustpan when she a glimmer of light caught her attention to the ice cream cake display cabinet.
What is that?
She stepped closer and spotted a fragment of glass wedged underneath in there. The broom’s bristles glided over the piece, but couldn’t dislodge it. Frowning, she gently used her fingers to wiggle the shard of glass out. With it came a sliver of a cream colored hard paper. She swept both into the trash. Next she mopped, losing herself in the manual task, while her thoughts drifted.

Disappointment settled in her gut that neither she nor the cops had found out who’d killed her mom. Camie was off the hook with as many witnesses confirming where she had been at the time of the murder. Even if the woman had paid everyone off, someone would’ve come forward by now.

Next door, Mr. Griffin’s delivery truck rumbled. Mr. Griffin had said he didn’t know anything had happened because of the noise. Putting away the broom and dustpan, she flipped her
Be Right Back Sign
to ten o’clock and snagged the plastic garbage bag full of trash for her excuse.

Behind the strip mall, she blinked against the sleet hitting her face and hastily walked over to the dumpster. Mr. Griffin was checking in his order and the delivery driver was unloading boxes in the back alley of the store.

“I think you have a customer,” Lily shouted so the hardware owner could hear her.

“Now?” He cursed. “Mind checking these boxes off the delivery receipt for me?”

“Sure.” She swallowed and forced a smile despite her lies. As soon as he ran inside, she rushed to the driver’s window. Thankfully it was open and the guy with a cigarette in his mouth nodded.

“Something wrong with the delivery manifest?”

“Would you turn off your engine, please?” She didn’t want to shout her questions and take the chance on Mr. Griffin hearing her.

He flipped the switch and the truck rattled before going silent. “What can I do for you?”

“Five days ago, back on October twenty-first, you brought a delivery to Mr. Griffin. I work next door and my mom was murdered that day between nine and ten a.m.” She took a breath, the words rushing out of her. Any minute, Mr. Griffin could come back outside, hear her, and know she thought he might be guilty. “Did the deputies talk to you? Do you remember seeing anything unusual that day? Anything at all?”

“My condolences.” He blew out a stream of smoke, but aimed it inside the truck so it didn’t hit her face directly. “She was a nice woman. Gave me free ice cream cones whenever I brought ya’ll a delivery.”

“What about that day and time? Anything you can think of that you might have missed? Please.” A noise sounded behind her and she jumped.

Mr. Griffin returned, and she smiled at his glower, handing him the clipboard.

“Sorry, I didn’t get much farther than you did on your delivery receipts,” Lily said.

The old hardware owner marched to the back of the truck. “At least you got him to stop the deafening truck.”

Lily turned back to the driver, hope filling her as he frowned like he was concentrating.

“No. I told the cops everything, which wasn’t much. Wish I could help.”

“Thanks anyway.” Her heart sank into her shoes. “If you think of anything, please let me know.”

Coming around the back of the truck, she stopped short. “You still getting merchandise? I thought you sold your business.”

“I did.” His voice grumbled. “Damn company I canceled my order with forgot to delete it from the system. So I got to check all this in and add it to my inventory. The guy who bought my place said not to worry about the mistake, he’s gonna pay the bill.”

“That’s good then.”

He snorted and went back to checking in boxes. “You were wrong about that customer, no one was in there unless they were a leprechaun hiding.”