Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 02 - Apple Pots and Funeral Plots (4 page)

“I’ll be there in a few minutes and thanks for the lift.”

“No problem, see you there.”

Shelby
and I walked into the office lobby; again everything looked new and smelled of fresh paint.
On the right side of the room was a sitting area with two overstuffed leather chairs and a small mahogany table between them adorned with an exquisite tiffany lamp.
The carpet was so new it didn’t have any worn sections where people would have walked through the front door to the check in counter.
The counter itself was beautiful, polished brass top and mahogany paneling underneath.
There were five-star hotels that didn’t look this good.

No one
stood
behind the counter but I could hear the mumbled voices coming from a television.
On the desk was a bell, so I rang it a few times.
Still no one – so I rang it again.

An older woman dressed in a flowered cotton shift walked up to the desk.
She snatched the bell off the counter, opened a drawer and threw it in.
“Do you have a reservation?” she scowled.

“No,” I said tentatively.
What if the inn was full?
Maybe this eating festival was a big thing and I wouldn’t be able to get a room in this town.
“Do you have any empty rooms?”

“Of course.”
She glanced back toward her TV.
Obviously I was keeping her from one of her shows.

“I’d like a room for myself and my dog.”

“How many nights?”
Her voice was monotone and if she smiled, her face would probably crack.

“I don’t know.”
I wasn’t really sure how long I’d be there or where my investigation would take me.
The festival lasted all week.
Would I be here that long or longer?

She grunted, interrupting my thoughts.
“Pick a number.”

“Seven.
I think I’ll stay for the festival.”

“Fine, seven nights.”
She handed me a registration card.

I signed it and passed it back.
“Can I have room 213?”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

She shrugged.
“I don’t care.”

I doubted she cared about anything, except maybe her TV programs.
She handed me the key, turned around and left the room.

Room 213 was the last room on the second floor.
It was the farthest from the office, but the closest to the town.
The room looked recently remodeled like the rest of the inn.
There was a king bed in the middle of the room covered with a beautifully quilted turquoise comforter.
Next to the window was a small round table with two oak chairs.
The room smelled of fresh paint and Pine-Sol.
I put
Shelby
’s bowls next to the bathroom vanity and filled one with water and the other with food.
She went directly to her food and gobbled it down.

“Hungry, girl?”
She barked and went back to eating.
“Me, too.”

As
Shelby
finished, I put my Diet Coke and Peanut M&M’s into the small refrigerator in the room.
There’s nothing better than cold Peanut M&M’s.
Then
Shelby
jumped up on the bed and lay down.
“While you take a nap, I’m going for pizza.”

When I walked to the door,
Shelby
didn’t even get up.
Her breathing was slow and steady and her eyes were shut.
A car accident can do that to you.
I was tired too, but I needed to eat first.
I quietly closed the door and walked the two blocks down
Main Street
in search of the pizza parlor.
Hopefully there’s only one in the town because I’d forgotten to get the name from Bill.
It was easy to spot.
The large neon sign announced, “Pizza Goo-lore. The home of the gooiest pizza’s in the world!”
I hoped the ‘goo’ was about the cheese and not the grease.

The outside of the business was newly painted red with red and white-checkered curtains on each of the windows.
I opened the door and stepped in.
It seemed like any other pizza place I’d been to before.
Wooden floors, with lots of picnic-style tables, a few booths on the outside walls, a small room off the back where I could hear videogames chiming, and a counter where you ordered your pizza, beer, and soda.
The only difference was the huge plasma screens that hung from each wall.
I’d never seen screens that big.
They must have cost a fortune.
Three were playing baseball games and one was on a local news station.
This place smelled of fresh paint, too, with a mixture of pizza sauce and something sweet.

Bill waved as I came through the door.
“Liza, come join us.”

Kate, Ted, and Bill were already devouring a large pepperoni pizza.
It isn’t my favorite topping, but I was hungry enough to eat anything.
I sat down, grabbed a piece of pizza and took a bite.

Bill laughed.
“Another woman ruled by her stomach.”

I continued to stuff the pizza in my mouth. Thankfully the ‘goo’ was about the huge quantity of cheese on the pizza and not the grease.
When I’d finished the second piece, I slowed down.
Kate and Ted left to play videogames.
I grabbed my third piece of pizza and took a big bite.

“So, if you’re not here for the festival, what brings you to Clainsworth?”
Bill asked.

I started to choke on my pizza.
During my last adventure
,
secrecy had been a key to finding out information.
If I told him the truth, would that be the end of my investigation?

Chapter 4

Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of a good excuse to tell Bill, so I told him part of the truth.
“My friend was killed here in December.”

“The teacher at the inn?”

“How’d you know?”

“Kate told me you were a teacher.
And we don’t have a lot of murders here in Clainsworth.”

“That’s good,” I said and then continued, “Danielle was stabbed at the Motor Inn and they never found out what happened.”

“It was big news here.
Our first murder in ten years.
We haven’t had one since, either.”

“I don’t understand why they couldn’t find the person who killed her.”

Bill shrugged.
“I don’t know much about it.”

“Me neither, and that’s why I’m here.

“My brother, Jimmy, is a local deputy.
He moved here a few months ago, so he wasn’t around when it happened, but I’m sure he could help you.”

“That’s great.”
I wondered if he was the same officer Tom spoke to.
“Can you tell me what you remember?”

“Sure.
It was a few days before Christmas.
It’s a really busy time around here.”

“Christmas is a hectic time for everyone.”

“It wasn’t Christmas but the apple pots.”

“What exactly is an apple pot?”

“It’s an eight-inch terracotta pot with small handles on both sides.
They’re imported from
Mexico
.
The first big shipment arrives in December.
Then we get another shipment ever
y
other week until the end of June.”

“They use them at the festival?”

“Yeah.
The pots are filled with sliced apples and then an oatmeal butter crumb topping is added.
They’re baked, cooled and used for the eating contest.
You can also buy them at any booth during the festival.”

“Wow, I can’t wait to see one and enjoy the apple cobbler that’s inside.”

“Would you like to have one now?”

“They sell them here at the pizza parlor?”

“Oh yeah, it’s the town’s specialty.”
Bill went to the counter and returned with a brown pot.

It was round on the bottom with two small brown handles, one on each side.
And the scent coming from it was wonderful.
I could smell cinnamon and lots of sugar.
It reminded me of the apple dessert my grandma used to make.
My mom was a great cook but she never thought that we should have dessert.
She felt it was too full of sugar and that we didn’t need it.
But when we’d go and visit grandma, she’d make this sugary sweet apple pie and tell my mom that sugar was good for growing children.
Then she’d put the dessert in front of my sister and me and dare my mother to say anything.
Mom knew better, she’d just shake her head and walk away.

Bill handed me a fork.
“Dig in.”

It was rich, sugary, juicy and absolutely fabulous.
Bill and I finished the entire pot in minutes.
Then Bill handed me a napkin.
There was writing all over it.

Before I could ask, Bill answered my question.
“It’s the recipe for the apple cobbler.
You can take the pot home, run it through the dishwasher and then make and bake your own dessert.”
He smiled, clearly proud of his town.
“That way you can take a little of Clainsworth home with you.”

I turned the napkin over in my hand.
“That’s cool.”

“Yeah.
Most people buy six or eight of the pots. They really are a single serving of dessert.”

He was right.
I could have easily eaten the entire apple cobbler by myself.
I was suddenly exhausted, both from the food and the accident.
“I think I’ll call it a night, Bill.
Thanks for the pizza and the cobbler.”

“You’re welcome, Liza.”

“Can you take me to see your brother tomorrow?”

“Sure.
I’ll tow your vehicle into the local garage and then be over.
I don’t want to leave it in the ditch too long.
I’m afraid some of the local teenagers might have a little fun with it.”

“Vandals in the sweet little town of
Clainsworth
?”
I teased.

He shrugged.
“Just bored kids.”

“Thanks, again.
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I turned to leave.

“Wait.”
Bill stood and handed me the apple pot.
“Don’t forget your pot.”

“Thanks.”
I took the pot and walked back to the inn.
Shelby didn’t even raise her head when I came in.
I patted her head, changed into my pajamas, and climbed into bed.
The sheets were soft and the mattress firm, just the way I like them.
Sleep came immediately.

I awoke to a loud pounding on the door that started Shelby barking.
When I tried to sit up, pain shot through my entire body.
I felt like I’d been run over, several times, by a huge cement truck.
The person at the door pounded again and
Shelby
’s barking got louder.

“Just a minute,” I yelled over both noises.
Slowly I rose from the bed.
Each step sent excruciating pain up my leg and into my back.
As I got to the door, I noticed Shelby’s leash on the table.
I picked it up, slowly bent over and hooked it to her collar.
As soon as I put it on, she settled down.
It was the only time she listened.

I opened the door to find Bill there.
His face was burrowed into a serious frown and he
held
the handle of my gun by his fingertips.
When he
started to speak
, I
handed him Shelby’s leash.
“Put the gun on the table and take the dog to the bathroom.
I’m going to take some aspirin, and when you come back we can talk.”

I turned and walked toward the bathroom.
I downed several aspirins, made a quick cup of tea in the microwave, and sat down at the small table.
A snail would have beaten me if we were having a race.

When Bill returned, he unhooked Shelby who went directly to her food and sat down at the table.
“A teacher who carries a concealed weapon?”

“It wasn’t concealed. It was in my glove compartment.”

“Okay.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“A teacher who carries a gun?”

“My boyfriend is a sheriff and he bought the
gun
for me.”

“He taught you how to shoot?” Bill asked.

“No, my dad taught me how to clean, load and shoot several types of guns but I never wanted to own one.
I don’t like it, so I keep forgetting about it and leaving it in the glove compartment.”

“Oh.”
Bill frowned.

“Tom thinks every woman should be able to protect herself.
So he bought me the gun and has been teac
hing me some self-defense moves to go along with the karate and judo my dad insisted I learn.
”

“Two smart me
n,” he said, then was quiet for several minutes.

I’m a little dense, but I finally got it.
Kate’s words about her dad flirting with me and then the giggling in the truck when he invited me to pizza, came back to me.
Bill was interested in me?
I totally missed it.
I reached over and put my hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry.
Did you think…?”

“No.”
He pulled his head back.
“We just met yesterday.
That would be silly.”

It was time to change the subject.
“Are you still taking me to meet your brother?”

“Of course.
How about I go get you some donuts from the coffee shop while you get dressed?”

“I’d love that.”

“You look a little sore this morning.”

“On the scale of one to ten, I’m a ninety-nine.”

“Did you take your aspirin?”

“Yes.”

He stood up.
“Okay, I’ll go get the donuts and be back.”

“Walk slow.”
I smiled at him.
“I’m not the fastest mover this morning.”

He chuckled and left.
Shelby was already lying on the bed.
It looked so inviting.
But I had a job to do, so I shuffled my way to the bathroom.
The hot water from the shower helped soothe my sore muscles.
There were bruises all over my body, especially on my legs where they were pinned under the dashboard.
Not to mention the big black knot on my head from where I hit the steering wheel.
My head
didn’t pound
as much, so I think the aspirin
had finally started
to work.
I dressed in a pair of blue jeans and red tank top, pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and then I sat back down at the table.
Getting dressed had never taken so long or been so difficult.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door and
Shelby
started barking.
I was getting another headache to go with my other aches.
“
Shelby
, come here.”
The dog came over and lay on the floor next to me.
To the door I yelled, “Come in.”

Bill came in carrying a box and Styrofoam container. A man in a police uniform followed him into the room.
He was stockier than Bill, but they had the same round face and bright blue eyes.

Bill leaned his head toward the officer.
“This is my brother, Jimmy.
I thought I’d bring him here.
That way you won’t have to go all the way to the police station.”
He chuckled.
“It’s six blocks and you’d never make it.”

I smiled.
“Thanks, Bill.”

The deputy walked in and glanced at the gun on the table.
I put up my hand.
“It’s registered and I have a license to carry it.” I grabbed the Styrofoam cup and drank a sip of the coffee.
Then I took a donut out of the box.

He nodded.
“Good.”
He sat down at the table.
“Bill tells me you were a friend of Danielle Slammers.”

“Yes, we worked together at a math conference every year.”
I leaned forward.
“What can you tell me about her murder?”

“We gave all the information to her family.”

“I’m not family.
Just a friend who wants to know what happened.”

He eyed me suspiciously.
“There isn’t much to tell.”

“I’d appreciate anything you can tell me.”
I pointed to the box.
“Would you like a donut?”

“No thanks.”
He opened a file folder that sat on the table next to my gun.
“Here’s what we know.
The afternoon of December 20
th
, the maid went into the room to clean and found her lying on the floor.
Her dog was next to her and wouldn’t let the maid anywhere near her body.
The maid called the hotel office and the manager called the station.
They came and tried to get the dog.”
He shook his head.
“It was only this little beagle but it wouldn’t let them near her.
Finally animal control was called and they took the dog away.”
He closed the file and set it on the table.

“Did you find the knife that was used?”

“No.”

“Did the medical examiner have an opinion about what kind of knife was used?”

He raised his eyebrows and reopened the file.
“It was a blade about six inches long.”

“Serrated or not?”

“Serrated on one side.”

“Like a steak knife?”

“Sure.”

“Did Danielle use room service to order dinner the night before her death?”

“Don’t know.”
He shrugged.

“I was just thinking, if she had ordered steak, then the knife would have been in the room.”

He raised his eyebrows, a move similar to his brother.
“You ask a lot of interesting questions for a teacher.
Are you some kind of private investigator?”

“No.”
I shook my head.

“Well, it’s a good question.”
He made a note in the file and leaned forward.
“Got any more?”