A Real Pickle (8 page)

“We have to find the truth,” I said.

“For a biography that no one is ever going to read?” the matron asked sharply.

“We’re not doing this for anyone but your brother,” Moose said.  “Profit is not our motive here.”

“Then you fit right in with the rest of my family.  I’m the only one left with any sense of responsibility for the money our ancestors acquired.  Curtis was a solid businessman for many years, but I’m afraid that his illness tainted his ability to focus on what was important.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“Our bloodline, of course,” she said.  

“So, who do you think might have killed him?” Moose asked her.

“Why do you believe that I have any idea of who that might be?” she asked.

“Because I’ve watched you assess those around you as though you were weighing them on your very own set of scales, and I have a hunch that they’ve all come up short in your eyes.”

It was fascinating.  I could see her considering her options as she tried to decide how to react.  To my surprise, her response was a slight smile.  “Remind me never to play poker with you.  Yes, I admit that I
have
given it a great deal of thought.”

“Have you come up with any conclusions?” Moose asked her.  

“I don’t trust Crane.  Actually, I never really have.”

“Has he done anything to earn your suspicion besides not being related directly to you?” Moose asked.

“That’s a fair question,” Charlotte said, “but I don’t have an answer, at least not yet.  I’ll find the truth though; you can trust me on that.”

“Were you and your brother close?” I asked her.  I hoped that they’d at least had a better relationship than the next generation appeared to have had with him.

“We were, once upon a time,” she said, “but his illness finally drove us apart.  He changed in more ways than I can describe.  Things that were once important to him became nothing in his eyes, while he became odder and odder.  I suppose you know about those ridiculous plastic pickles he loved to give out.”

“I thought they were charming,” I said, and it was true.  It had made Curtis stand out, something that was nearly always good in my mind.

“It was an embarrassment,” she said abruptly.  “Our family has owned many businesses over the years, gradually building up into an empire.  Certainly our people sold pickles a long time ago, but we’ve grown into a huge corporation.”

“But the brunt of your fortune still started making and selling pickles, right?” I asked.  It had been a point of pride with Curtis about his humble beginnings, and I hated seeing his sister trash the image.

“It hardly matters at this point,” she said.  “I must ask you both to restrain yourselves from asking such personal questions while you’re guests here.  It’s unseemly.”

“Maybe it is,” I said, “but it was what Curtis wanted.  Just because it makes you uncomfortable is not enough reason for us to stop.”

“Must I remind you that you both are here at
my
discretion?” she asked.

“Actually, Jeffrey is the one who has control of the estate right now,” Moose said.  “I’ll bet
that
was a real surprise for you all.”

“It just shows you how much my brother had slipped in the last year of his life.  I’m afraid that Jeffrey is in it well over his head.”

“Then we’ll be here to help him if he needs it,” I said.

“So then, you are on
his
side in all of this,” she said curtly.

“As a matter of fact, the
only
reason that we’re here is because of Curtis,” I answered.  “We aren’t going anywhere.”

“So be it,” she said as there was a knock on the door.

Before Moose or I could answer, Charlotte called out, “Enter.”

Humphries walked in.  “Dinner is being served in the grand dining hall.”

“We’ll be there shortly,” she said, and Humphries backpedaled out of the room quickly.  Before Charlotte would allow us to leave, she turned to my grandfather and me.  “This conversation about how you two are treating my family isn’t over.”

“Maybe not, but it’s at least going to be postponed.  That snack wasn’t enough to hold me.  I’m starving.”

“Then follow me,” she said.

Charlotte led the way, with Moose following close behind, and me taking up the rear.  As we walked toward the grand dining room, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Curtis, despite the opulent surroundings.  Everyone, with the exception of Jeffrey, had just accused someone else in his inner circle of murder, and I had to wonder if we pushed Jeffrey hard enough, he’d supply a favorite as well.

All in all, it wasn’t a very auspicious exit for such a fine man.

Chapter 7

We didn’t fill much of the expansive table once we were all seated, but I was happy to see that everyone was present and accounted for, including Jeffrey.  He looked as though he felt out of place sitting at the table with the family, something that was reinforced when he spoke.  “Charlotte, as I said before, I’d be happy to eat in the kitchen.  It’s what I’m used to.”

“Nonsense,” the matriarch said.  “My brother elevated your position from chauffeur to executor.  I’m afraid that there’s no going back now.  You will dine with us, as is due your new position.”

“For goodness sake, Aunt Charlotte, if he’s more comfortable eating with the help, then let the poor man go,” Tristan said.  I knew that he wasn’t saying it to help Jeffrey, but to satisfy his own desire to have the past order preserved at the table.

“I simply will not allow it,” Charlotte said.  The withering glare she gave Tristan would have been enough to melt a lesser man, but it just bounced right off of him.  “Let’s speak of it no more.”

The china and stemware were all very elegant, but the first thing I noticed was the small brass bell beside Charlotte’s plate.  I couldn’t believe it when she actually picked it up and rang it.  Sure enough, one of the servers came out of the kitchen carrying a heavily laden tray of shrimp cocktail and assorted fruit cups.  She knew without asking what each member of the family wanted, and Jeffrey was no surprise to her either, since she winked at him discreetly as she placed a fruit cup in front of him without asking.  Moose and I were another matter, though.  My grandfather chose the shrimp while I chose the fruit.  My allergy to seafood made the choice an easy one.

I took my first bite, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find the blueberry delicious.  There was no doubt that this family spared no expense when it came to pampering themselves.  I had to wonder if that had been the case when Curtis had been in residence, but it was certainly that way now.

Charlotte took a dainty bite of her shrimp, and then she addressed my grandfather and me.  “We ordinarily don’t have cocktails with our evening meal, but if it’s your practice, we’ll be more than happy to provide you with whatever you’d like.”

“Thank you, but water is fine with me,” I said.

“Do you have any single malt whisky on hand?” Moose asked.  I knew that he rarely drank at home, so his request surprised me.

“Certainly,” she said, and the bell was rung again.  Moose requested his drink neat, and soon the brunette server named Margo showed up with a small glass of amber liquid.  My grandfather studied it in the light, took a deep breath as he swirled it in the glass, and then he took a small sip.  The smile that spread across his face made me wish that I’d asked for one as well, but it was too late now.  

“Is it to your taste?” Charlotte asked him.

“It’s perfect,” Moose said.  “I’d propose a toast to Curtis’s memory, but it’s bad luck to salute someone with just water.”  He stood, raised his glass dramatically, and then my grandfather said, “To Curtis Trane, one of the better men that I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”

After he drank, my grandfather sat back down.  I’d looked around the table as Moose made the sentimental gesture, and I saw a smile from Jeffrey, but the others were clearly unimpressed.  

Soon enough, the appetizer was replaced by cold vichyssoise soup.  

“Cook is off his game tonight,” Sarah said after she took a small sip of the soup.

“I think it’s delicious,” I said.

“You clearly aren’t used to the level of perfection we expect here,” Sarah said, almost as though she was speaking in sympathy.  “You run a truck stop; is that right?”

“It’s the best diner in our part of North Carolina,” Moose said.  For a moment I thought he was going to leave his seat he was so upset, but I put a hand on his shoulder and he settled back down.

“Of course.  Forgive me,” Sarah said.  “What type of fare do you normally serve there?”

“You name it, and we can make it,” I replied.

It was pretty clear that she doubted that with all of her heart, but I wasn’t about to let her get under my skin.  “What is it exactly that
you
do, Sarah?”

She looked at me defiantly.  “I’m a student of life.”

“Wow, what does
that
pay?” Moose asked.

“Everything in this world is not about money,” Sarah snapped.

Moose wasn’t about to back down, though.  “It can be if you don’t have any, but then I’m not talking to anyone who’s ever felt that way, am I?”

Charlotte stepped in before things got any bloodier.  “Could we all strive to be more civil to each other, particularly during this meal?  Let’s try to focus on the good memories we’ve all had of my brother.  We at least owe him that.  Agreed?”

The family nodded their assents readily enough, and Jeffrey added his as well.  Moose and I really didn’t have much choice to agree without looking heartless and uncaring.  It was a clever move on Charlotte’s part, and I had to wonder if she had prompted her niece to goad us into an argument so she could use it against us.

After that, enveloped in idle chitchat that did nothing to advance our investigation, we had an excellent roast with baby carrots and new potatoes that I wished my husband could have tasted.  The cook had used an unusual spice combination on the roast’s rub, and I knew that Greg would have been able to identify every ingredient.  After that, we had light and crispy salads, and then dessert and coffee.  The chocolate truffles were amazing, but I restrained myself and didn’t clear the tray, as difficult as it was for me to do.

“That was wonderful,” I told Charlotte after the meal was completed.  “Would it be appropriate for me to give my compliments to the chef?”

“Don’t praise him too much,” Sarah said.  “I still believe that the soup was a bit bland.”

“It was fine, Sarah,” Tristan said.  

“What do you know about the art of good food?” she asked.  It was clear that the tiptoeing part of our evening was over.  “Or good art of
any
kind?”

“I’m warning you,” Tristan said before Charlotte spoke up.

“Enough.”  The single word was enough to get them to agree to a reluctant truce.  

Jeffrey took the opportunity to say, “If you’ll excuse us, I need to go over some reports with Crane tonight.”

“It’s not all about business, young man,” Charlotte said.

“Not always, but this
is
important,” Crane said.  He turned to Jeffrey and suggested, “Let’s go into the study and work where we won’t disturb anyone.”

“That would be fine,” Jeffrey said.  “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Crane asked.

“I need to have a word in private with Moose and Victoria first,” he said.

It was clear that Crane wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of being kept waiting by a chauffeur and two commoners from a diner, but he really didn’t have much choice in the matter.  “Don’t be too late,” he said.  “I’m not a young man anymore.”

“I won’t be long,” he said.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Jeffrey said.

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.  “I’d like a word with Tristan and Sarah myself.  Come along, you two.”

They weren’t pleased about that, but they obeyed nonetheless, and we had the dining room to ourselves.  Once they were all gone, Jeffrey grinned at us.  “Welcome to the zoo.”

“I’d say that it’s more like a circus if you asked me,” Moose said, not even trying to keep his voice in check.  “Does
anybody
here miss Curtis?”

“The three of us do,” Jeffrey said.  “I’m sorry I didn’t join you in your toast, but I still can’t get used to the idea that these people are treating me as though I’m an equal all of a sudden after all of these years of being looked down upon.”

“You missed out, my friend,” Moose said.  “That’s the best whisky I’ve had since I was in Ireland, and that’s saying something.”  My grandfather had taken an extended trip there before opening The Charming Moose, and though he’d only stayed a week, he’d made a lifetime of memories.

“Next time,” Jeffrey said.  “Have you had any luck so far?”

I wasn’t sure that we should be sharing with him just yet, especially since our investigation had just started.  I tried to warn Moose off from talking about it, but I couldn’t get his attention.  “We’re doing what we can,” he said, and I nodded in approval of his brevity.

Jeffrey smiled apologetically.  “I don’t mean to push you, but in less than three days,
all
of us will be out of here.  You need to work as quickly as you can.”

“We’re giving it our full attention,” I said.  “Do you really have reports to go over with Crane tonight, or were you just trying to break up our charming little dinner party?”

“I’m not an idiot by any stretch of the imagination, but Curtis’s estate is complicated.  What made him think that
I
could handle it?”

“He trusted you,” I said as I put a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m certain that he cared more about that than any qualifications you might be lacking.”

“I understand that, and it does mean something to me, but I wish I had someone besides Crane helping me.  After all, he’s got to be a suspect, right?”

“He is,” I said.

“You know, you don’t have to do this all on your own,” Moose said after a momentary pause.

“Are you volunteering?” Jeffrey asked.

“Not me,” Moose said quickly.  “But I do know a woman who could lend you a hand.”