Trouble in the Tarot (25 page)

Good Lord.

I opened the front windows wider, but there was still no breeze. Nothing but hot, sticky, humid air. I hated being cooped up all winter, but right now I’d give anything for air-conditioning, I thought, feeling irritated. I wasn’t sure if it was the heat or the lack of progress on this blasted case.

“Same time same place on Thursday?” Wally asked with a thumbs-up to the ladies and a sympathetic smile in my direction.

“Oh, go on with you, now.” Granny patted his bulging bicep, letting her hand linger. “You know we’ll be right here. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon with this little accessory strapped to our ankles.”

“Well, then, I guess you won’t have an excuse to say no,” he said and patted her hand. “Exercise is the key to longevity.”

“Then count me in,” Fiona chimed in, not about to be left out.

Wally gave her a pat as well and then left.

I sighed. Granny was right. At the rate we were going, it would be a while before we solved this case. I glanced through my notes and tried to take stock of where we stood.

Ophelia Edwards might have injected a laxative in Fiona’s pie to make her lose the bakeoff because she wanted her job as president of the Knitting Nanas, but that didn’t make her a murderer. The maid had confirmed her whereabouts, thereby giving her an alibi. She was no longer a suspect.

Hazel Kissinger was left-handed and had admitted
to writing the threatening note, warning Bernadette to stay away from Captain Walker. She had purposely used
we
in the note, hoping Bernadette would assume it was Granny and Fiona who wrote it. Love made you do stupid things, but Mitch had told me last night that Hazel’s neighbor confirmed she saw her pulling into her driveway at the time of the murder. So Hazel was no longer a suspect.

The employees Bernadette had fired all had alibis as well. That still left Harry, but I couldn’t imagine him trying to set Fiona up for murder out of revenge. He genuinely seemed to want her back, and he had been instrumental in getting the judge to agree to let them out on house arrest. Yet Harry didn’t have an alibi. He said he was driving around looking for Fiona that night.

Then there was Quincy Turner. He’d been angry that the carnival committee had passed up his Parks and Rec Program in favor of the Animal Angels Organization, and he’d admitted to blackmailing Bernadette for her being a fraud after her petition didn’t work, but he wouldn’t say how she was a fraud. And I still didn’t know who the person was on the other end of the phone the night of the Fourth of July. I had a feeling he blackmailed that person for more money to keep quiet. If only I could find out who that person was, then I was sure I would discover what was worth that much money to keep quiet.

Ozzie Zuckerman had threatened Bernadette physically to get her to back off from the petition. He needed
the auction money to pay off the loan sharks he owed. He could have killed her to stop her from making any more waves. Or the loan sharks could have killed her. They had been looking for something in her office, and Bernadette had to have gotten the money to pay Quincy from somewhere.

Her business had been struggling not that long ago, but then suddenly, she seemed to be doing okay. Like she had gotten an influx of cash from someplace. If she used the new source of money from her business to pay off Quincy, she might have turned to the loan sharks for some quick cash to put back into the business or risk having to close. Desperate people did crazy things sometimes. In the end, she’d had to close anyway.

I just had to find a way to prove that one of the remaining suspects killed Bernadette Baldwin, so Granny and Fiona could be set free. But I had no clue where to begin. My cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID.

“Hey, Romeo, how are things going with Zoe?” I asked Sean, crossing my flip-flop-clad feet at the ankles and fanning my bare shoulders beneath my tank top.

“They’re not. Every time I ask her out, she still says no. My wee little heart can’t take much more abuse.”

I laughed. “Right. I’m sure you’re absolutely broken up over this.”

“Actually, I have to admit, it does kind of sting, love,” he said in a tone more serious than any I’d ever heard him use.

“Then take my advice and quit asking her out. Just talk to her. Get to know her. I’m sure she’d like that.”
I knew I would, if I ever got to have my own date with Mitch. The few moments we had alone recently were spent talking about the case.

“I’ve tried,” Sean said. “I’ve told her all about the bar, and Wally’s World, and everything I could think of about my life. How I live, what I do, what I’m into. She doesn’t seem to care.”

Men were so clueless.

“Because you’re talking all about you. Stop talking and start asking questions. Find out how
she
lives, what
she
does, what
she’s
into. Start listening. You’re too used to women being enamored of you. It’s time you do the admiring for a change. You might be surprised by the outcome.”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way. Thanks, lass. You just might be on to something.”

“Glad to help. I do know a thing or two about women, but you still owe me after my Dumpster diving and your lack thereof.”

“That’s actually why I’m calling.”

I set my feet on the floor. “If you think I’m climbing back into another stinky Dumpster or anywhere else, you’re out of your ever-loving mind.”

“As I recall, Dumpster diving was your brilliant idea. Not mine. But no worries. There are no smelly Dumpsters involved. Only construction ones.”

I puckered my brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Now that Wally’s back from his personal training session with the Dynamic Duo, I don’t have to cover the gym anymore. I’ll pick you up and fill you in.”

“I’m game for anything that gets me out of Crazyville.”

“See you in five.”

*    *    *

“What on earth does Cole West have to do with Bernadette Baldwin’s murder?” I asked Sean as we arrived at the West Construction site.

“We were going over wedding stuff when we got talking about Zoe. He said she wanted to order the cake from BB’s Baked Goods, but now that it was closed, she had to order it from Sam’s Bakery. Seems to me Sam’s is doing a great business now that he doesn’t have any competition left in town, don’t you think?”

I shrugged. “I guess so. But how does that make him a murderer?”

“Let’s go talk to Cole. He has all the details.”

“Okay.” I followed Sean across a gravel parking lot, through various construction vehicles and non-smelly Dumpsters. Didn’t matter, I still gave them a wide berth. We reached the main office, when the door swung open and Biff bounded outside, jumping around excitedly and looking like a normal, happy, healthy dog.

Like he should.

“Hey, boy.” I gave his head a good rub, and he let out a deep woof, then shook all over and ran back to the door, never letting Cole out of his sight for too long.

Cole jogged outside in work boots, jeans, and a T-shirt while carrying a hard hat. “Hey, Sunny. Did Sean fill you in?”

“A little, but not completely. What’s going on?”

He looked around, always wary and never completely trusting of anyone except Jo. He and Biff really were one and the same. “Let’s go inside where we have privacy.”

“Sounds great,” I said, and meant it. The trailer that served as an office had air-conditioning. I took a moment to stand in front of the fan and close my eyes. “This is Heaven.”

“I can see that,” Cole’s deep voice said with a chuckle.

“You need a moment alone, lass?” Sean asked, the teasing note in his voice firmly back in place.

“Nope. I’m good.”

“You’re good, all right. Lucky Mitch.” Sean wagged his brows.

I smacked him. “Behave. That’s the kind of stuff that gets you in trouble with women.” I focused on Cole. “Sean said you had important information regarding Sam?” I sat in a chair next to Sean across from Cole’s desk.

Cole sat on the edge of his desk, facing us. “A while back, before the murder, Sam came to me asking for an estimate on a job.”

“What job?”

“Knocking down the wall between his bakeshop and BB’s Baked Goods.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“I asked him the same thing. He said Bernadette’s business was hurting, so he was going to see if she wanted to merge their businesses. He wanted solid
numbers on what it would cost before he approached her. When I didn’t hear back from him, I contacted him to see what was up. He said Bernadette wasn’t in the market for a partner and had said no.”

“Really,” I said. “Did he seem angry about it?”

“More frustrated than anything,” Cole went on. “Sam said as competitors, neither one of them was doing that great. But if they merged, it would be a win-win situation. Bernadette wouldn’t listen, and now her shop is closed.”

“And Sam is making out like a bandit,” Sean added.

“Sam once said he never gambled because it was too risky. When Bernadette had said no to merging, maybe he killed her to ensure all the business went his way,” I said.

“Maybe it’s time we talked to him and found out,” Sean said. “You up for a little good cop, bad cop again?” he asked me.

“You read my mind.”

We thanked Cole and headed into town to talk to Sam. Ten minutes later, we were enjoying a slice of cinnamon raisin bread on the house in a corner booth of Sam’s Bakery. Sam sat across from us, dressed all in white with a tall chef’s hat on the top of his big round head. He was a pudgy man with tufts of white hair around the sides and back.

“This is delicious, Sam. You seem to be doing well for yourself,” I said around a mouthful in full good cop mode.

“I do okay.” He nodded proudly.

“I see that,” Sean chimed in, using a tone that said he was born to play the bad cop. “Looks like you doubled your customers since BB’s closed. Lucky you.”

Sam’s smile slipped a little. “I don’t like what you’re implying. I’m not going to say I’m not happy that business has picked up, but no one enjoys benefiting from someone else’s death.”

“Since she turned you down in merging your businesses, her death was the only way you really could benefit, now wasn’t it, lad?”

“Where did you hear that?” Sam narrowed his beady eyes, and his round face nearly hid them from view.

“You didn’t like Bernadette much, did you?” Sean went on.

“It doesn’t matter if I liked her or not. I would never kill anyone.”

“Where were you on the night of her death?” Sean asked.

“None of your damn business,” Sam exploded. “I don’t have to tell you a thing.”

“You’re right, you don’t,” I said, knowing it was time for me to step in with more good cop. “We’re just trying to figure out what happened. That’s all.” I handed him my card. “If you can think of anything at all, please give me a call.”

Sam took the card. “Look, all I wanted was to merge our businesses so we would both benefit. Bernadette might not have been the nicest person, but she usually
had good business sense. I knew she was hurting for money, yet she said no. It didn’t make a bit of sense. Am I happy my business is booming now? Hell yes. I’m human, Miss Meadows, but I’m hardly a killer.”

My gut told me there was more going on here than borrowing money from loan sharks. My gut was never wrong, and I had a hunch I knew what it was. Time to put my background to good use and call on the socialite within.

*    *    *

Just before closing, I hit up the bank. We only had one in town. I did all my banking online, so I didn’t know the bank manager personally. That worked in my favor perfectly.

I adjusted my wide-brimmed hat, smoothed my summer white suit, and teetered along on spiked heels. Holding my head high, I walked with an air of authority. Basically like my mother and all the people who ran in her social circle.

After asking to speak with the manager, I headed to the waiting room in the back and waited for him to call me in. After what seemed like forever, he finally did. I went into his office and closed the door.

Holding out my hand, I shook his way too soft, limp one and said, “I’m Sylvia Eleanor Meadows of the New York Meadowses. Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Vladamir.”

“How can I help you today, Ms. Meadows?” He
folded his long frame behind his desk and adjusted his round spectacles over dark bushy eyebrows.

“You have such a lovely little town here,” I said, testing the waters to make sure he didn’t know who I was.

He smiled with pride shining bright from his eyes. “We’re quite proud of our town. Divinity is full of charm and elegance and class. A wonderful place to live and raise a family. Are you married?” He eyed me subtly.

“No, I’m not married…yet.” I smiled coyly. “You should be proud of your darling town. Although, I do have to say the newspaper headlines are a bit alarming.” I folded my hands in my lap.

“Ah, yes, well, I can assure you we normally don’t have crime in Divinity. At least we didn’t use to. Lately, it’s as though a cloud has formed, and we can’t seem to get out from beneath its mist of doom and gloom. Too many newcomers who don’t belong here, is what I say.” He huffed, mumbling something about quacky fortune-tellers and crazy old ladies wreaking havoc.

“Hmmm, you don’t say,” I replied, knowing he was talking about Fiona and Granny and myself. I stiffened my spine and made my smile even brighter.

“Never mind all that negative nonsense,” he said. “You seem like a high-caliber person. The exact kind of people Divinity needs. Are you planning to stick around for long?”

“That depends.”

“Anything I can say to persuade you to stay?”

“Well, actually, I was wondering, now that the owner
of BB’s Baked Goods has had such an unfortunate demise, will the bank foreclose on her business? I am interested in relocating my business.”

He frowned. “But BB’s Baked Goods is not for sale.”

“It’s not? I was told the owner didn’t have any relatives. Wouldn’t the property revert back to the bank?”

“Not if she had a partner.”

Sam had said Bernadette had told him no. “So, you’re telling me that Bernadette Baldwin had a business partner?”