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Authors: Chris Cavender

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

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BOOK: The Missing Dough
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Tomorrow Maddy and I were going to once again go looking for a murderer, and I hoped for all of our sakes that we would be able to find whoever it was who killed Grant Whitmore.
Chapter 4
“H
ey, are you awake?” I asked Maddy the next morning as I tapped lightly on the guest-room door.
“Come on in,” my sister said, and I pushed the door open to find her sitting up in bed. It was pretty clear by looking into Maddy’s eyes that she’d been crying, but I wasn’t about to bring it up if she wasn’t going to. She had the right to mourn in whatever way she saw fit, and whether it was for Grant or his mother, I was going to respect it.
“How did you sleep?”
“Off and on,” she admitted. “You know, I wasn’t Grant’s biggest fan, but I still can’t believe that he’s actually dead, can you?”
“I know. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone, too. It would have been one thing if it had happened somewhere else and we hadn’t seen him so recently, but this really brought it close to home, didn’t it? If I’m being honest about it, he was my least favorite of all your ex-husbands, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to see him dead.”
Maddy frowned just a little. “Eleanor, there haven’t been
that
many husbands,” she protested.
I sat down on the edge of her bed. “I know, and I apologize. That was in pretty bad taste, and I shouldn’t tease you about it, certainly not right now.” It was time to lighten the mood a little. “Are you in the mood for some breakfast?”
“That would be nice,” she said. “Any chance you’d make me pancakes?”
“I’m on it,” I said as I got up. “You’re welcome to take a shower, or even just laze around up here alone if you’d like, but if you’re in the mood for some company, I’d be delighted if you’d come into the kitchen while I work.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” she said. “We’re still opening today, aren’t we?”
“If you’re up to it.” I’d thought briefly about shutting the Slice down until we found Grant’s killer, but there were a few reasons why it wouldn’t be such a great idea. I needed the income, since the line between profit and loss was fine indeed, but more importantly, if we shut our presence down to the folks of Timber Ridge, it would most likely look as though we had something to hide. Besides, leaving the pizzeria open might bring us leads or other information that we wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. My customers loved to gossip, and with any luck, someone had seen something at the festival last night, and they’d share it with us.
“Eleanor, if it’s all the same to you, I need to work, and besides, it might give us a chance to tap into our Timber Ridge network of friends to see if any of our customers saw anything last night that might help us.”
“Great minds think alike. I’ll see you in a bit.”
 
We were just finishing up with our meal when there was a knock at my door. I approached it tentatively, remembering a few times in the past when the chief of police had come by my place unannounced, either bringing bad news or trying to grill me about something. When I opened the door and saw who it was, though, I started smiling.
“Come on in,” I told Bob. “We weren’t expecting to see you so early this morning.”
“I know. Sorry about that. I should have called first, but I was on my way into my office, and I wanted to have a word with your sister while I had the chance.”
As he followed me into the living room, I called out to my sister, “Maddy, Bob’s here to see you.”
We passed each other as I entered the kitchen. I figured the two of them needed some privacy, and besides, I had dishes to do. I was up to my elbows in soapy water when Maddy came back into the room.
“Did Bob leave already? I didn’t even hear the front door close.”
“He’s surprisingly stealthy, isn’t he?” she asked with a smile.
“Is everything all right?”
As Maddy grabbed a towel to dry for me, she said, “I’d be lying if I said that things couldn’t be better. Actually, he wanted to know if we were still planning to dig into Grant’s murder.”
“He’s not trying to stop us, is he?” I asked. “You’d think that he’d be all for it, given the situation he’s in. Should I talk to him?”
“Hang on a second, Eleanor. Bob just told me that he didn’t mean to sound so negative last night about our plans to investigate. He wanted to make sure that I knew that he was all for us seeing what we could find out about Grant, and why anyone would want to kill him.”
“Wow, pardon me for saying so, but he was never exactly gung ho about our investigations in the past.”
She grinned. “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten, either. As a matter of fact, I just reminded him of that.”
“What did he say when you did?”
“He told me that after spending a nearly sleepless night, he’s come to the conclusion that our digging couldn’t hurt, and it might just help. It wasn’t exactly high praise, but I took it gladly from him.”
“What’s he going to do about it himself?” I asked as I finished washing the last plate, rinsed it, and handed it to Maddy to dry.
“He’s going to keep a low profile, keep working, and hope that somebody figures out who killed my ex-husband before the rumors and speculation do too much damage to his reputation.”
As I drained the water from the sink, I said, “I’ve been thinking about something, and I was wondering if you had any clue about what Sharon Whitmore might have left you.”
Maddy shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea. We kept in touch after the divorce, but we weren’t exactly best friends, if you know what I mean. We spoke on the phone once a month, and a couple of times a year we got together and had lunch.”
“How did I not know about that?”
She smiled at me. “Eleanor, I have a life outside of the Slice, even if it’s not much of one. As to what she might have left me, I have a hunch it’s her slides.”
“She had slides? A woman that age? Wasn’t she afraid of breaking a hip or something?”
“Photographic slides,” Maddy said. “Sharon loved to put on slideshows of her photographs, and I thought they were really quite good, but her own children didn’t mask their boredom for her passion.”
“What were the pictures of?” I asked.
“Mostly just clouds,” Maddy said.
Surely I’d misheard her. “Clowns?” What a garish collection that must be. I’d been distrustful of clowns since my seventh birthday party, when the hired entertainment, a red-nosed mess named Beebobu, showed up drunk and promptly threw up on my Princess Persephone birthday cake.
“Clouds, as in those white puffy things that are up in the sky. She had some remarkable shots, and she was always eager to show me her latest images whenever we got together.”
“Why would Grant care if you got those?” I asked.
Maddy shook her head. “It’s not all that hard to imagine that he didn’t want me to have
anything
of his mother’s. Grant didn’t make any bones about the fact that he hated that his mother and I still kept in touch. You want to know something? I’m not signing that paper for Rebecca, and I wouldn’t have signed it for Grant, either. If Sharon wanted me to have something, then I’m going to make sure I get it. Anything else would dishonor our genuine friendship.”
“Clouds,” I repeated. “They really must be something.”
“Just wait. You’ll be impressed. I guarantee it.”
“We have some time before we have to go in and prep for opening the Slice today. Who should we speak with first? Do you have any idea where Grant lived?”
“I already tracked it down. I did a little digging last night, after we said good night,” she admitted.
“How could you do that? You don’t have your computer with you, do you?”
“No, but my phone has Internet access,” she admitted.
“It’s really pretty amazing what I can do with it. You really should upgrade yours, you know.”
“No, thanks. I’m not all that keen on having a cell phone at all. The basic unit is just fine for my needs.”
She frowned. “Suit yourself. Anyway, I did a few searches on Grant, and believe it or not, I found out that he moved back in with Sharon last year.”
“Are you telling me that Grant lived with his mommy?” I asked. It was hard to imagine that self-important and overly inflated ego living under someone else’s roof. “What happened to make him do that?”
“He got yet another divorce,” Maddy said, “and evidently, the final ex–Mrs. Whitmore had a craftier attorney than I did. She took him to the cleaners but good.”
“Could
she
have killed him?” I asked, suddenly very interested in the mystery woman.
Maddy frowned. “I suppose she could have, but why would she? She got three quarters of everything he owned. Why would she want to see him dead, too?”
“That’s a question we need to ask her, don’t you think? How do we find her?”
Maddy took out her telephone and tapped a few buttons. For all I knew, she was calling up missile launch codes, but after a few seconds, she said, “Her name is Vivian. She lives in Cow Spots, and she owns a dry cleaning business there.”
“Did she buy it with her divorce settlement?” I asked.
Maddy tapped a few more keys and then said, “Based on when she bought it, my guess is that she probably did.”
“Why a dry cleaner, of all things?” I asked.
“Who knows?” Maddy asked. “So, should we go talk to her before we tackle anyone else?”
“The second you told me that Grant had moved back home, I was hoping that we’d be able to figure out a way to check out Sharon’s place first,” I admitted.
“Done and done,” my sister said with a grin.
“Do you actually have a key?” I asked.
“No, but if things have stayed the same since I was a member of that family, I know where one’s hidden. Let’s go see what we can find.”
“Maddy, are you sure that you’re okay with opening the Slice today? If you want to shut it down until we figure out what really happened to Grant, I’m okay with it.”
“Last night you were willing to open up today at our normal time. What changed your mind, Eleanor?”
“I’m still willing to work our normal shift if that’s what you want to do, but I don’t want to force the decision on you if you think we’re killing our time to snoop. Are you honestly okay with us opening today?”
“Are you kidding? I’m counting on it,” she said. “We need to make things look like business as usual, you know? Besides, if we don’t find any clues on our own, some might just walk in and find us.”
“Okay, then we stick to our original plan,” I said as I hugged her. “I really am sorry about Grant.”
She pulled away and nodded. “Thanks. He was a lousy husband, and not that much better a person overall, but he deserved better than he got. I might be doing this a little because of him, but mostly I’m just trying to protect Bob.”
There was one last thing I needed to ask, just to clear the air between us completely. “Maddy, I don’t even want to bring this up, but we need to talk about this. Don’t get mad, but I have something I need to ask you.”
I could see her steel herself for my question. “Go ahead.”
“Have you considered the possibility that Bob circled back after we left the fair and killed Grant? If he felt as though the man was a threat to you, he might have acted to protect you from him.”
Maddy shrugged. “It crossed my mind for a second when I first heard the news, but I feel pretty secure in my belief that my fiancé didn’t do it.”
“I know you love him, but we have to keep open minds about this,” I said.
“It’s not that. I just realized that if Bob wanted to go after someone, he’d find a way to take them to court. I’m pretty sure that’s the way he’d punish them.”
“I don’t know. He was as mad as I’d ever seen him yesterday, Maddy.”
She paused a little longer before she answered. “He was defending me, Eleanor. I’m not saying the man is perfect, but he’s no killer.”
“Not even if he thought you were in real danger?”
She shrugged. “I wish I knew the answer to that, but we aren’t going to get anywhere if we start off believing that Bob killed Grant.”
“I see what you’re saying, but I just wanted to discuss the possibility so we can put it behind us. What are we going to do if we find direct evidence that Bob was the one who killed your ex-husband?”
“We’ll turn it over to Chief Hurley, just like we would for anyone else,” she said with infinite sadness in her voice. “I’d fight like the devil to get him off, but I won’t sweep it under the rug. Can you live with that?”
“I can if you can,” I said. I tried to think what I would do if I were in her shoes, with David, or even Joe, accused of murder. I couldn’t honestly answer the question, but I had a new level of respect for my sister. There was no doubt in my mind that she was telling the truth.
I just hoped and prayed that we’d never have to find out what she’d do if the evidence pointed to Bob.
Now, more than ever, it was important that we find the killer, and quickly.
Our plans changed when we got to Sharon’s house, though. There were two squad cars parked out front, and I drove on past, hoping that no one would notice us.
BOOK: The Missing Dough
5.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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