Murder on Wheels (10 page)

Emma put her foot on my leg.

“Want to go see if we have frozen fries and clam strips?” I flipped through my movie collection and came up with the first two Percy Jackson movies. You can't go wrong with Greek gods and their half-breed offspring for a good time. A perfect Saturday night. When the devil on my shoulder laughed, I flicked him off with a finger.

I'd just finished the first movie when I gave up, went over to my desk, and grabbed my notebook. Opening it to a clean page, I started writing down everything I knew about Kacey, Austin, and the geo club. It really wasn't investigating, I rationalized to myself. I was just writing down what I knew so I'd remember in case . . . I stopped for a moment to try to think of a good excuse. When I didn't come up with anything, I pushed the thought away. This time, the little devil on my shoulders was rolling around with giggles.

By the time I headed to bed, I knew one thing. I didn't know anything about how Kacey had died, except for the place. I needed to find out whether Darla had gleaned any information from Doc Ames's secretary. I put the notebook in my purse and headed upstairs to sleep.

 

The sun woke me the next morning. I didn't set an alarm—since I usually got up early, my body would wake me up when I needed to be going. This morning, however, my body clock had missed the wake-up call. I looked at my clock through bleary eyes. Eight thirty. I threw the covers off me and ran to the closet to get clothes. I was going to be late meeting Darla and she didn't like waiting. Besides, I needed gossip to get any further on my non-investigation of Kacey's murder.

Emma whined at the door so I let her out, using the time to sip some coffee. I'd made it out of the bathroom in less than five minutes; now I just needed to set Emma's food and water outside and power-walk to Diamond Lille's. If I was lucky, I might even be early.

The walk did little to ease my nerves. I heard a loud
bang
from behind me and I spun around to see an old car backfiring. Good thing I hadn't thrown myself on the ground, all for a poorly maintained Buick.

When I arrived at the diner, Darla was already seated at a table near the window. I glanced longingly at my regular booth, but this wasn't an Amy and me breakfast. I might have ruined that category for the rest of my life. Darla had a cup of coffee and a muffin already sitting in front of the open chair. Her muffin was already gone, and only the paper lining remained. “Sit down. I ordered you an appetizer.”

I didn't realize breakfast had courses like appetizers or desserts. But I couldn't turn one down if I was going to play the game. I slipped into my chair and took a sip of the coffee. “Sorry I'm late. I was up past my bedtime thinking about poor Kacey.”

Not quite subtle, but it got the message across. I was interested in her theories.

Darla blinked twice, but then nodded, agreeing with my statement.

I thought she was going to say something, but just then, Carrie arrived to take our order. “Are you still waiting on Amy?”

“Amy's not coming today.” I looked at the menu that I'd seen so often I could recite most of the items by heart. “Bring me a Denver omelet with a side of wheat toast. And a glass of orange juice.” Carrie had mentioned the wait staff got extra points for more than one drink per customer. I hoped that was still true. I needed some karma credit.

“I'm not very hungry,” Darla said. “I'll have a large orange juice, two eggs over easy, an order of bacon, hash browns, and a short stack of cakes. Warm the maple syrup please.”

I stared at her after Carrie left. “Not hungry?”

“Don't be all judgmental. I've had a hard week.” She stirred some sugar into her coffee. “I saw you at Kacey's memorial yesterday. What did you think of it?”

“Judgment-free zone here.” I held my hands up. “I was sad for her. She had all those people who really cared about her and she wasn't around to hear all the good things being said about her.”

“Maybe her angel was standing by the coffin. Like in that play the high school does every year.” Darla looked at me over her coffee. “Do you think Austin killed her?”

The change of subject threw me a bit. Luckily, I didn't react other than to shake my head. “Who knows? The guy doesn't seem to understand normal things like love and loyalty. Look what he did to Sadie.”

“You're still mad? I didn't realize you and Sadie were so close.” Darla peered at me, curious now. “Men have their own agendas, I figured you knew that by now.”

“What Austin did to Sadie wasn't an agenda, it was just cold and calculating. All the time they were dating, he and Kacey were working on getting back together.” I leaned back as a runner from the kitchen delivered our plates.

Carrie followed behind carrying our juice glasses. “Anything else I can get you?”

“We're good.” Darla picked up a fork. “Was it as busy here as the winery was yesterday?”

“Lille had to call in all the wait staff. No one got a day off.” Carrie patted her tip apron. “But the crowd was feeling generous. I made twice what I typically rake in on a Saturday.”

“I thought about coming down for dinner, but after Darla told me about the crowd at the winery, I figured you'd be slammed.”

“One woman got all teary-eyed and went over to this Taylor guy and accused him of killing Kacey.” Carrie eyed me. “Has Greg told you what killed her? From what I hear, she just fell down dead on the beach. So sad when they're that young.”

Now Darla was looking at me as well, waiting for my answer.

“We haven't talked about Kacey's death.” I took a sip of my orange juice. My statement was partially true. We'd only talked about Greg interviewing Nick about the food truck incident. And of course, the fact that Sadie's recipes were back in her hands. But we hadn't talked about a cause of death and I was beginning to wonder why a seemingly healthy adult would just die. Or how.

“Whatever. I tell you, though, that chick was fired up. She didn't think Kacey died of natural causes. Her friends had to drag her out of here.” Carrie nodded to another table. “Enjoy your meal.”

I thought about the memorial and tried to pick out anyone who was upset or seemed angry. Besides Josh. I took a bite of my omelet and realized Darla was watching me. “What?”

“I told you I went to Bakerstown to the funeral home. Doc Ames wasn't in, so Mabel told me what she'd heard.” Darla set her fork down on the table and leaned closer. “She said the poor girl's chest was all covered with a rash, and her airway had closed up. Worse case of allergic reaction she'd ever seen.”

I kept eating my breakfast. This so didn't replace Sunday breakfast with Amy. We typically talked about the latest star couple breakup or what she'd overheard in the mayor's office. Okay, I'll admit it, we gossiped. This was more of an interrogation.

“Bee sting, I bet,” Darla mused. “The news is always talking about those killer bees coming up from South America. I bet she got stung from one of the little buggers who stole away on a cargo ship that docked in the city.”

“I thought the killer bee story was an urban legend.” I finished my orange juice, hoping to speed up the meal so I could go home and call Amy to patch up our little quarrel. Amy loved debunking urban legends, and the bee thing had been on her list to research.

“I don't know. Any way you look at it, the death doesn't appear to be a murder. So Austin is in the clear to inherit Kacey's estate.”

Maybe Darla was right. Kacey could have just died. Then Darla's words hit me. “What estate?”

“Her dad patented the formula for those puffy cookies they sell in stores, you know, the really good ones? When he died, he left her a fortune.” Darla started in on her pancakes. “I guess Austin's the beneficiary. Don't tell me Greg didn't know this.”

I shrugged. “I don't know. We don't talk about ongoing investigations.”

Darla laughed so hard she started to choke on the bite of food in her mouth. Once she got in control of her breathing, she gasped. “You don't have to hold up the party line to me. There's no way the two of you don't exchange any pillow talk around your day.”

“I hate to burst your fantasy, but we don't talk about open investigations.” I took a ten and two ones out of my purse and laid them on the table. “That's for my meal. I forgot I have another appointment.”

Darla smiled. “You just don't want to admit I'm right.”

D
arla's words still rankled. I wasn't lying when I said Greg and I didn't talk about cases. Well, except for when he was mad at me for getting into his business. I'd turned over a new leaf, and I was actively staying out of investigations. But I had to admit, Kacey's death had me stumped. Darla seemed to think the condition of the body proved she was murdered. I still wondered if the ingestion of the wheat had been an accident. From what the women in my coffee shop had said, Austin was always doing stupid stuff that ended up putting Kacey in danger.

I shook off my unease and decided that instead of worrying about something I couldn't change, I'd call Amy and tell her I was a royal jerk for my attitude yesterday. I had to admit, Kacey's memorial had affected me in ways I didn't expect. However, one fact remained totally clear: Taylor Archer was a jerk. Especially now with the power of the geo club position behind him. As I walked back from Diamond Lille's, the parched look of the wild areas outside of town bothered me. All that water just yards away in the ocean, but the grass was dying of thirst. I didn't really understand how they could send a man to the moon and develop a bomb that could kill off all the living creatures of the world, but they couldn't take salt out of water?

When I reached the house, Greg's truck sat in my driveway. He was on the front step, reading something on his phone. When I opened the gate, he put the phone in his pocket and stood and kissed me on the cheek. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

A confused look passed over his face. “It's Sunday, right? We've got a standing afternoon date. I thought we'd go into the city and get some dinner at one of the restaurants by the bay. I'm craving some seafood. It's been a crazy week.”

“I thought since you were on a case, we wouldn't be going out.” I put my head on his chest and we unlocked the front door. “I'm so glad you are here, though. I had breakfast with Darla this morning. That girl knows how to wind me up. She tried to get me to spill all the dirty secrets you tell me about your investigations.”

“Ha, I bet she was surprised when you told her you didn't have a secret to share. I told you before we went fishing with Jim a few months ago, I'm taking No-Guilt-Sundays, even while I'm on a case. All work and no play makes Greg a boring guy. Not to mention stressed to the gills.” He nodded to the kitchen. “You need to handle anything? Or should we take the long way and see if we can find the sea lions this afternoon?”

“You feed and water Emma, I'll run upstairs and get a quick shower and make myself pretty.” I kissed him on the cheek. “I really needed to see you today. Amy's mad at me and the breakfast with Darla was painful. Did you know some lady got in Taylor's face after the memorial yesterday?”

Greg sank into a kitchen chair. “Yep. Tim did the report, but I guess the woman was livid. Grief does that to people.”

“So you don't think Taylor killed Kacey.” I perched on a chair, too, leaning in for the answer.

“I don't think I'm spending my No-Guilt-Sunday talking about work.” He stared at me, then sat up. “Look, this is all I'm going to say, then the subject's closed. I know you, and you're not going to be happy until we get the facts out there.” I saw him consider his next words carefully. “Kacey's death has been ruled suspicious. She died of anaphylactic shock from an allergic reaction to wheat. We don't know how she ingested it, but it's clear she wouldn't have eaten something with wheat willingly. Everyone said the girl was fanatical about her diet. We have lots of persons of interest, including Taylor and Austin, but nothing concrete at this time.”

The breath flowed out of me. “So she
was
murdered. That poor girl.”

“I didn't think you liked her all that much.” Greg stood to let Emma outside. “And for your information, that last statement is what we're releasing to the press, minus the names, tomorrow. Darla will at least have an official statement to weave into her article.”

“I didn't like what Austin did to Sadie. Kacey just got caught up in the mix.” I watched him. “You didn't mention Sadie. Is she off the persons-of-interest list?”

Greg filled Emma's water dish. “I don't see how she could have been involved. The day Kacey was killed, Sadie spent the entire day working at the church's outreach program for the homeless in the city. She drove the bus of volunteers, manned the chow line, and was in plain sight for the full time.”

I smiled. “Sounds like Sadie. She loves her mission days.”

“Well, this time her charity work saved her butt. And before you ask, Nick was in classes all day, then had a debate team practice in the evening. That kid goes from the time he gets up to when he falls into his dorm bed at night. He's going to run the world in a few years.” He disappeared into the laundry room and came out with a scoop of food for Emma that he pointed at me. “So, are you getting ready or going like that?”

“Ten minutes.” I stood to head upstairs to shower. I paused at the doorway and turned. “Thank you. I know we have a pact not to talk about open investigations.”

He held up his hand. “I didn't tell you anything that would get me in trouble or that I wouldn't tell Darla. Well, almost nothing.” He grinned and pointed to the stairs. “Go get ready. Our day together is disappearing.”

 

When we finally got to the restaurant, I'd relaxed. We'd talked during the ride about everything and nothing. My camera was filled with pictures from the beach, highlighting the sea lions and the perfect ocean view we'd just kept finding, stop after stop.

As we followed the hostess through the dining room to our table, Greg paused and clapped his hand on a male back. “Great minds must think alike. How you doing, Justin?”

Amy's hand froze as she held her salad fork. She glanced up at me and then Greg but didn't say anything.

“Hey, buddy, good to see you.” He looked at Amy, who shook her head. “We're out for a little couple time; you know how hard it is to get time alone.”

Greg took the hint. “Us too. In fact, I'm hiding from the investigation right now. Hopefully my phone will stay quiet long enough for me to at least finish my salad.” He put his hand on my back and gently pushed me toward our waiting table.

I resisted the movement. “Amy, I'm sorry I was a jerk yesterday.”

She didn't look up. “I'm sure you are.”

“Wait, that's all you have to say? You think this is all my fault?” I put my hands on my hips and glared at her.

This time Greg's push wasn't as gentle. “Not here,” he whispered in my ear. Then to Amy and Justin, he waved. “See you around South Cove.”

As the curious hostess set our menus in front of us, I steamed. As soon as she left, I looked over the menu at Greg. “Did you hear her? I was trying to be nice and she just blew me off.”

“Look, I don't want to talk about your fight with Amy. You two have too strong of a friendship to lose it over a water conservation issue.” He put his hand on mine. “Think of it this way, she thought you of all people would be totally in her corner. So when you told her you wouldn't be part of her ‘Nazi patrol,' she was hurt.”

“I didn't say ‘Nazi patrol,' did I?” Now I wondered if I had gone too far. I'd stay on the visiting with cookies path tomorrow. Cookies could smooth over any problem—I hoped.

“Can we get back to our date night?” Greg pointed to the menu. “I'm thinking about trying these shrimp nachos, are you game?”

I nodded but snuck a glance over toward the table where my best friend sat. She didn't look too happy that I'd interrupted her date night, either. This had to blow over. At least, I hoped it would.

I heard Greg clear his throat and turned my attention back to him. “What are you going to order?”

As I reviewed the menu, I muttered, “First thing I'm getting is a frozen strawberry margarita.”

Greg chuckled and nodded. “I figured. Look, she'll come around. You two are as close as sisters. Sometimes sisters fight.”

And sometimes families broke up over stupid stuff. I didn't say my thought aloud, just nodded like I believed him. I scanned the menu. On page five, there was a special category, Gluten-Free. I turned the menu over and pointed to the listings. “Can you believe the food fads going around? I mean, I knew there were people with allergies, but it's becoming such a thing. Austin has the dessert truck, this place has a listing of gluten-free foods, what's next?”

“Businesses are realizing they can increase profits by catering to people who want or need a certain menu. Austin thought the food truck would have paid for itself in less than a year. He'd had inquiries about doing catering for different events even before he opened. They saw the truck and called the bike shop, wondering who owned it.” Greg went back to reading his own menu. “I'm surprised you don't have a mini gluten-free menu for the shop.”

“Believe me, I'm looking into it. I've had a lot of people mention how excited they were that the food truck was opening. I didn't want to tell them it might not.” I set the menu down, having made my dinner selections. “Do you think Austin will open now?”

Greg shook his head. “This was Kacey's project. Austin doesn't have the drive to work that hard. You know he rarely keeps his shop open except for the weekends. Are you thinking about the truck?”

I hadn't been, but now that Greg had brought it up, I wondered if I could nab the truck this time. Aunt Jackie and I had tried to buy it last summer, thinking that Diamond Lille's was our only competition, before Austin had swooped in with a cash offer Homer Bell couldn't turn down. The good news was that business decision had gotten Homer banned from eating at Lille's for his lifetime or whenever Lille calmed down, which could be longer. I realized the waitress had arrived, and she and Greg were staring at me, waiting for my order.

I ordered the feast plate, which had both lobster and crab along with fried shrimp and as a bonus, mashed potatoes. I added a side salad to give me at least one veggie count for the meal. When she'd left, I looked at Greg. “I guess I'll talk to Aunt Jackie about the truck. We'd have to paint it again, but she was all into the idea that we could take CBM on the road to the local festivals. She's been looking for a truck we could afford since we lost this one.”

“You could buy it out of the Miss Emily fund.” Greg waited for the server to drop off our drinks and a loaf of hot sourdough bread with whipped butter on the side.

I ripped off a piece of bread and smoothed butter on it. “That's what Aunt Jackie keeps saying. Honestly, I'm a little scared to dump all of that money into the business. What if people stop drinking coffee? I'd be bankrupt.”

“I don't think people will stop drinking coffee. Besides, you have the bookstore side as well as the desserts and your touristy things.” He took a sip of his iced tea. “Too bad we can't stay over tonight. I'd love one of those margaritas.”

“We'll have to make plans for a weekend once the investigation is over.” I took a sip of the strawberry delight. “You realize people are buying most of their books online now? That's another reason I don't want to keep all of my eggs in one basket.”

“You don't sell to the normal reader. Your book buyers are either tourists who need a book to read right away, or locals who are part of your book clubs or who haven't gone to the e-reader craze. I don't think you need to be worrying about this.” He took his own slice of bread. “What does Jackie say? I'm sure she's examined the numbers closely.”

“We're up from the last year, and the year before. But you know how things go.” I'd read all of the reports my aunt had shoved in front of me in support of her argument to expand, but my gut told me it was too much, and too soon. I watched as the server delivered the shrimp nachos and then I filled my little appetizer plate. Waving a chip at Greg, I continued. “Besides, maybe I want to use that money for something else, like a new house once the wall gets certified. I may need to turn Miss Emily's house into some sort of tourist attraction, and then I'd be homeless.”

Greg nodded. “The mission wall project may take over your life, I'll give you that. But for now, you need to worry about today and not all these maybes. You'll be frozen and not wanting to take any action if you don't stop worrying.”

I thought about what he said as I consumed the chips and cheese and baby shrimp on my plate. My aunt had made the same argument. Maybe I should be more open to considering buying the truck.

We didn't talk about the issue any more that night. I tried to put my worries on the back burner and enjoy my time with Greg. We'd finished planning our next trip to the city and all the things we wanted to do when his phone beeped. I watched him read the text as I sipped on the coffee we'd ordered with a couple of blueberry shortcakes for dessert. When he sighed, I knew our evening was over. “Work?”

“Sorry. The DA wants me to go over the case with him tonight. He's planning on filing charges in the morning.” Greg put his phone away after texting an answer and finished the last couple bites of his dessert. “Looks like I'll have a long night after I drop you off at the house.”

“Charges? Against who? I didn't think you had enough evidence against anyone for Kacey's death.” I finished my coffee, knowing that we'd be leaving sooner than later.

Greg waved the waitress down and gave her his credit card for our bill before he answered, “We didn't until we got the background report on Austin.”

“I don't understand.” I slipped on my jacket and snagged my purse.