A Biscuit, a Casket (23 page)

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Authors: Liz Mugavero

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Chapter 32
Stan couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. With a critical eye, she
stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, finding a million things
wrong with her hair and outfit. Nutty watched from the bed disdainfully.
“Why are you giving me that look?” she asked him. “Just because you have perfect hair.”
His orangey brown Maine coon coat was full and rich and thick. The neighborhood cats
were jealous when they saw him sitting in his window.
Nutty flicked his tail at her and rolled over, bored with the human vanity routine.
Stan grabbed a clip and twisted her hair up, smoothed her black dress and kicked off
her red shoes in favor of blue ones. Refusing to second guess the outfit again, she
marched downstairs and grabbed her purse. She had a voice mail on her phone. She dialed,
then hit the End button when Jake pulled into the driveway. Fluffed her hair again.
The dogs waited anxiously at the door.
“Nope, sorry, guys. You’re not coming for this one.” She took a deep breath. “Wish
me luck. Hopefully I won’t spill anything on him or otherwise completely embarrass
myself.”
The restaurant he’d chosen was just outside Frog Ledge—thankfully nowhere near Bruno’s.
It wasn’t an Irish pub, either. It was a Thai restaurant. She’d mentioned once how
much she loved Thai food, and he’d remembered. This place was awesome, beginning with
the Asian pear martini she’d ordered in hopes of calming herself. Why on earth was
she so nervous about this date?
Because he’s adorable. And nice

definitely a trait that takes getting used to.
Jake had dressed up, too. Not fancy, but he wasn’t wearing his usual bar uniform of
jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap. He wore a black dress shirt and a pair of gray
slacks. His dirty blond hair was its usual shaggy self, which was a relief, but he
had shaved, which Stan found unnerving. There were also no dogs to focus on. Usually
Duncan was jumping all over the place begging for treats, or Scruffy was trying to
get in someone’s lap. Tonight it was just them. They’d managed to get through the
vegetable spring roll appetizers by talking about Pawsitively Organic and Brenna’s
baking talents. Now they waited for the main course to arrive, and silence had settled.
And he kept watching her across the table, which wasn’t helping, as he sipped his
Sam Adams Harvest Pumpkin Ale. Stan took a big gulp of her drink and prayed for some
aspect of her former social skills to return. They seemed to have been eliminated
along with her former job.
“So did you hear what happened last night?” she asked.
He frowned. “With what?”
So Jessie and the rest of Troop E were keeping Enrico’s arrest under wraps. She told
him about the incident at the farm, glossing over the part about Enrico hitting her
with the shovel, and focusing on the attempt to taint the milk with sick cows.
Jake listened intently, his eyes dark, twirling his beer bottle around on the table.
When she finished he asked, “Did you get hurt?”
“Me? No.”
Just bruised, nothing major.
“But I have no idea what happened with Enrico. Do you think this means he killed
Hal and the charges against Tyler will be dropped?”
“I have no idea,” Jake said. “I would presume right now they have him on trespassing
and other criminal activity, maybe assault, and knowing my sister she’ll look to tie
him to the murder.”
“Yeah.” Stan sipped her drink. “I have to admit, I wondered if Hal’s murder had anything
to do with his real estate deals.” She watched his face closely. It didn’t change.
Wouldn’t want to play poker with this family.
He topped off her glass of water with the pitcher on the table, then refilled his
own glass. He replaced the pitcher deliberately, waiting for her to continue. Of course
he couldn’t make it easy. She wasn’t very good at fishing, either. The waitress came
and set down her plate of shrimp pad Thai and Jake’s spicy chicken curry, giving her
a minute to think through how to approach him.
“I think he was losing money all over the place,” she said.
“How do you know that?” Jake added a dash of hot sauce to his already spicy food.
Stan’s tongue curdled, imagining the burn.
“Just stuff that I’ve heard,” she said noncommittally, wrapping noodles around her
fork. She took a deep breath. “And I had a strange encounter with a guy at Bruno’s.”
“Bruno’s?” he repeated. “As in the bar?”
But her memory had finally gotten around to working. Her face drained. Bruno’s. Bullet
Man. He was supposed to show up at the farm tonight. And she’d completely forgotten
to alert anyone because she’d been hosting a doggie party and worrying about going
on this date.
She jumped up. “I have to call your sister.”
“Brenna? Why?”
“No. Jessie. Shoot.” She fumbled for her phone.
“Stan, what’s going on? Sit and tell me.”
She did, detailing her conversation with Bullet Man and her impulsive response to
his question. “He’s going to show up there tonight. I have to get your sister there.”
But instead of agreeing with her, he laughed.
She stared at him. Had he lost his mind? “What’s funny?” she demanded. “That guy was
creepy. He could be the killer. That was completely irresponsible of me—”
“Stan,” he interrupted. “Relax. That guy was Screech Monahan. I can see how you would
think he’s creepy, but he’s harmless.”
“You
know
him?” Apparently there was a lot about Jake she didn’t know.
“I do. And you’re right, that is a bullet hole. Screech had an altercation with someone
a lot more dangerous than him a few years ago. That was the result. And they call
him Screech because his voice is altered now. His idea,” he said, holding up his hands.
Stan had no idea what to say to that.
“He and Hal had an arrangement, but it wasn’t as sinister as you think. Screech drives
an old hearse. Hal was renting the car for the corn maze, as a shuttle from the parking
area down the street.”
This was getting more and more bizarre. “A hearse? How do you know this guy again?”
Jake smiled. “He’s a Frog Ledge legend.”
“I see.” Stan took a bite of her food. “Harmless, you say?”
“Completely,” Jake assured her.
“Well, that’s a relief, at least. But he’s going to show up at the farm and no one’s
there.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Jake pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts,
and dialed. “Hey, it’s Jake. Misunderstanding about the maze tonight. It’s closed
until further notice.” He paused. “I know. Sorry about that, man. I’ll let you know
if things change.” He hung up, pocketed the phone, and smiled at her. “All set.”
Stan frowned. She’d learned a lot about Jake over the past couple of days. “Thanks,”
she said.
“No problem.”
She turned her attention back to her food. “Oh, I finally talked to Izzy.” She stuffed
a forkful of food into her mouth, waiting for his reaction.
He kept eating. “So what was the story?”
Jeez, he was a tough customer. She swallowed and set her fork down. Beating around
the bush never worked for her. “Izzy told me about partnering with Hal. To buy your
building. And how Hal borrowed from bad people and dragged Izzy down with him.”
Jake took another swig of his beer. Waited.
“That’s why she threw the chair at that guy in her store. Because they’re looking
for the money now from her and she doesn’t have it.” Frustrated, Stan leaned forward.
“Don’t you want to say something?”
Jake finished chewing, wiped his mouth with his napkin. Picked up his water glass
and drank. “What do you want me to say? People make choices, Stan. Izzy didn’t want
to hear it when I asked her to reconsider her deal with Hal. They offered the right
price for the building. I’m sorry she’s in over her head, but I honestly don’t know
what I can do to help.”
“How come you never mentioned it? That you bought and sold properties?”
Jake did that half smile thing. “I didn’t realize I was being interrogated.”
Stan flushed. “You’re not. But with you and Izzy . . . not getting along, I would’ve
thought you’d want people to know why. If that’s why.”
“I don’t need to justify anything to ‘people.’ If people like me, great. If they don’t,
I’m not gonna lose sleep over it. Most people,” he amended. “But I have no control
over what people think. That’s a lesson I learned a long time ago. Believe me, life
gets a lot easier when you figure that out.”
How could she argue with that? She sighed and picked her fork up again.
“Izzy made a bad choice,” he said. “Hal made a worse one. I didn’t
make
them do it. Hell, I had no idea until the Realtor brought me an offer. Then I went
to see her. I knew talking to him wouldn’t get me anywhere. Remember, I’ve known the
Hoffmans forever. But I found out she’s pretty stubborn, too. And she wanted the building.
Told me everything was under control. I had another building under agreement, so I
closed the deal.” He shrugged.
“Do you own a lot of properties?”
“A few,” he said. “I started dabbling in rental properties when I moved back to Frog
Ledge. Some, like Hal and Izzy, wanted to do their own rehab because they had specific
ideas of what they wanted. Usually I buy, rehab, and sell. I’m picky about what I
want and I stay in the immediate area. I’d like to see more opportunities for people
to work in Frog Ledge. If we can get businesses in here, it’ll be a good thing. Businesses
need locations.”
His dedication to his town was impressive. “When do you have time to do all that with
the bar?” She’d never even seen him looking like he’d walked off a construction site.
“I have a crew who does the work.” He smiled. “I don’t want to do the work anymore.”
“Makes sense.” She ate more, thinking, absently looking around the room while she
did so. He had connections, obviously. There had to be some solution for Izzy, even
if it was simply getting a name of someone who might help her. “So what could we do
to help—” She stopped. Stared across the room, at a corner booth half hidden by a
human-sized bamboo tree.
Jake followed her gaze. “What?”
“That’s my mother.” Who was presently laughing, snuggled up with mayoral candidate
Tony Falco in the middle of the booth. There was a bottle of wine on the table. Falco
refilled her mother’s glass as Stan watched. “Excuse me,” she said to Jake, and rose,
tossing her napkin on the table. She marched over to her mother and stopped in front
of them, folding her arms across her chest.
“Hello, Mom. I’m glad I wasn’t waiting to have dinner with you.” As soon as she said
the words, she realized how ridiculous they were. She was here eating dinner, too.
Her mother’s eyes went wide behind the rim of her wineglass. She swallowed and set
it down. Beside her, Tony Falco flashed a thousand-watt smile at her.
“Kristan. What are you doing here? Are you on a date? With whom?” Patricia rose and
scanned the room. Stan risked a glance over her shoulder in time to see Jake lifting
a hand in a wave. Her mother squinted. “Is that the bartender?”
“He owns the place,” Stan said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”
Patricia sat again, but she left space between her and Falco. “We’re having dinner.”
“A lovely dinner at that,” Falco broke in, standing and extending a hand to her. “Lovely
to see you again. I had no idea you were Patricia’s daughter.”
Now her mother was confused. “You know each other?”
“Yeah. I dumped a glass of water in his lap.” Stan didn’t elaborate. “Are
you
on a date?”
Great question, Sherlock.
“I didn’t even know you liked Thai food.” Not like that had anything to do with anything,
but Stan was at a loss. Why was her mother here with this politician? And why was
she acting like a jilted suitor? The irony of the situation almost made her laugh.
The last time she’d seen her ex, Richard, she’d been in this very position at a different
restaurant.
“As a matter of fact, I am on a date. And I do like Thai food. Does that suit you?”
Her mother’s tone had cooled considerably. She was in control again after being caught
off guard.
“So this is what all the secrecy was about? Where did you meet him? Did Char set you
guys up or something?”
Her mother looked uncomfortable, but Falco missed it. “Not at all. Patricia and I
go way back,” he said, with an adoring look at her mother.
Finally, it dawned on her. “So this is why you came to Frog Ledge. Not to visit me.
You had arrangements to see him. Why didn’t you just tell me that, Mom? Why go through
all the pretense?” She shook her head. “I’ll never learn when it comes to you. Enjoy
your dinner.”

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