Corpse in the Crystal Ball (11 page)

“And we didn’t turn around because … ?”

I let out a huff of air. “It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated?”

“My love life.”

“You have one?” She smirked.

“Ha ha.” I scowled.

“Let me get this straight.” She held up her hand to stop me from interrupting her. “Last time we talked you didn’t
want to date one hot and spicy detective because Grumpy Pants and Tinker Bell don’t mix. You wanted to date one cool and sweet mailman because Mr. Oh So Right was, well, ohhh sooo riiight. Right?”

“Right …wrong …I don’t know.” I buried my face in my hands. “Like I said, it’s complicated. Can we just go to Belle’s now?”

“Okay, jeesh. Look who’s grumpy now.”

“I’m sorry.” I lifted my face and ran a hand through my short spiky strands of hair. “This case has me worried.”

“I heard.” Jo’s voice turned serious. “I can’t believe they suspect Mitch. We all know he’s a walking time bomb when it comes to his emotions, but no one can seriously think he’s capable of murder. Can they?”

“Mayor Cromwell can, and he does. If I don’t do something quick, they will lock Mitch up the first chance they get. Detective Stone is lucky he has the chief and the captain in his corner.”

“No.” Jo turned her head toward me, her rich burgundy strands of hair swinging over her shoulder. “He’s lucky he has you.” She pulled into Belle’s driveway and cut the engine.

“Tell
him
that.” I grunted. “Stupid man. Ugh. Can’t he see I’m doing this for him? He’s really angry that I’m working this case and he’s not.”

“He needs to get over that. You’re his best shot at freedom. He’d be a fool to ignore that.”

“He’s no fool, but he’s also not one to sit around idle while others do the job he was born to do.”

“Then you’d better work quickly before he puts
himself
away by doing something stupid for real. By the way, how was it working with Detective Fuller today?”

“He’s a nice guy, but if he smells food of any kind, he gets distracted. I left him at lunch to follow some leads and told him I’d report back later.”

“He let you venture off on your own?”

“He was too hungry to put up much of a fight.”

“What’d you come up with?”

“I called all over and finally discovered that Cabs Are Us on the outskirts of town by the airport picked up Isabel Gonzales on the morning of her death around eleven o’clock at the Divinity Hotel. The driver said he drove her straight to Big Don’s Auto.

“When I took Granny driving that day, she skidded off the road and got my bug stuck in the mud by the swan pond. I called Big Don’s for a tow, but Lulubelle said he was busy renting a car to Isabel.”

“No wonder you were so insistent on playing Bunco tonight. You want to know if Belle can tell you anything else about Isabel.”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Let’s just hope Belle can stay focused long enough. You know how she gets at Bunco.”

“Crazy. But right about now, crazy is exactly what I need, because taking on this case is about the most insane thing I’ve ever done.”

“Bunco!” Lulubelle shouted, throwing her hands in the air and doing a jig around the island in her kitchen. The others
were seated at the breakfast nook and the dining room table. Her kitchen was decorated in a whimsical cow motif that somehow suited her personality—nice, loyal, and moo moo moo-cho fun.

“So glad you won, Belle. And how is Don?” I asked after everyone had left except Jo and me.

“Oh, Don’s a big marshmallow.” Her triple chins jiggled. “He’s a big ole softy with a romantic side I had no idea he had. He writes me little notes every day and hides them different places in the office.”

“That’s great, Belle,” Jo added. “And how is his daughter, Sissy?”

“The baby has colic and cries day and night. The poor darling is exhausted, and Don is worried sick.” Belle’s face softened. “He’s a good man, my Don.” She sighed. “I’ll never get tired of saying that.
My Don
.”

“That’s sweet. Speaking of good men, did you know that Detective Stone has been suspended?” Jo asked.

Belle’s face turned angry. “That’s just crazy talk. Everyone loves Detective Stone. He’s a mite quiet and intense, but everyone knows he loves this town and would do anything for the folks who live here.

“That hussy Isabel Gonzales was bad news. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but I pegged her as trouble from the day I laid eyes on her. Why, she stirred up more chaos in two weeks than most people do in a whole year. I say we start a petition. Get the whole town to protest Detective Stone’s suspension.”

“I’d settle for the facts,” I said. “Remember the day I got stuck in the swan pond?”

“Do I ever! That granny of yours is a hoot. Took Don a whole hour to pull your bug out of the mud while your granny sang along with the squawking swans, waving her wooden spoon around like it was a maestro’s wand. Don said the more they squawked, the more she waved. She had no idea they were reading her the riot act in bird lingo. I heard Sam the baker wasn’t singing a happy tune, either, but the rest of us sure like her.”

“That’s sweet. She’ll be happy to hear that,” I said in relief, and made a mental note to buy Sam a week’s worth of supplies to make up for his crushed French loaves. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could tell me about that day. What exactly happened from the time Ms. Gonzales arrived until the time she left?”

“Well, she stormed into the place around eleven thirty, demanding Don drop everything and rent her a car right then and there. Believe you me, I started to tell her what was what, but big ole softy Don steered me back to the office with a gentle hand. He has such nice hands.” Belle sighed.

I cleared my throat, and she started talking again.

“Anyway, he went out to help the uppity wench, but she was busy making a phone call. She tried several times, then muttered, ‘Detective Stone’s not answering his phone.’ I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t, either.”

I felt relieved to know Mitch had been telling the truth. I believed in him, but a part of me had a small seed of doubt.

“When she got done cursing, her phone rang,” Belle went on. “She answered it and started whispering. That’s when you called about the tow. I told you I thought it was the detective, but it turns out I was wrong. It wasn’t the
detective—the little tramp admitted that much—but she wouldn’t tell me who it was, either. It had to be a man, though, on account of how she was whispering.

“No sooner did she hang up with Poor Sap than she got another call. Only on this call, she walked off toward the other room. But that didn’t stop us from hearing her shouting. We couldn’t make out what she said, but when she came back she was upset. She grabbed the keys and took off in the car, not even giving Don a chance to fill her up. Trust me, she couldn’t have gotten far. The sucker was on empty. She had to have stopped at a gas station before she went anywhere.”

I looked at Jo. There was only one gas station in town. Looked like I had another lead. “Thanks, Lulubelle.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Now go save that man of yours.”

I blinked.

She winked.

They didn’t call her the gossip queen for nothing.

“Here we are,” Detective Fuller said as we pulled into Bob’s Quick Fill on Friday morning. “Now, remember. No more running off on me. Checking out records and things like that are okay, but questioning people on your own can be dangerous. Captain would skin my hide if something bad happened to you.”

If I waited around for him to get “full,” the investigation would take forever, I thought. But I’d learned a thing or two since the last time I had been involved in a case, so I simply said, “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” as I crossed my fingers behind my back.

“Good. In the meantime, I checked out Gary’s Hardware Store yesterday, and he confirmed that Chuck Webb did indeed buy a patch kit on the day of Ms. Gonzales’s murder. Looks like he was telling the truth after all.”

“Maybe my intuition is off. Hopefully, we’ll have better luck with Bob.”

We climbed out of Detective Fuller’s car and entered Bob’s Quick Fill. It was small and cozy with rows of food scattered about, a few tables set up, and a coffee bar and donut section in the corner. Detective Fuller made a beeline for the donuts.

What a surprise.

“Mornin’, Detective Fuller. Miss Meadows. How’ve you been?” Bob asked. The man was probably in his thirties with a full beard and a thick head of curly brown hair.

“Not too bad, Bob. Not too bad,” Detective Fuller responded around a mouthful of powdery dough. He held his donut up in question as he looked at me. I shook my head in answer.

“Hi, Bob. I see you’re not too busy now. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?” I blurted, wanting to speed things up.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Isabel Gonzales.” Detective Fuller wiped off his hands and pulled out his favorite pen and notebook. “She rented a car from Big Don on the day that she died, but she took off with an empty tank. Since you’re the only gas station in town, we thought she might have stopped by here.”

“Sure did.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going?” I asked.

Bob rubbed his jaw. “Actually, yes, she did.”

“Like … ?”

“She was asking all kinds of questions about Detective Stone. I heard they had a fight, but I assumed they’d made
up on account of the way she was talking like they were a couple and all.”

“What exactly did you tell her?” I relaxed my shoulders and tried not to appear restless, but getting him to move any faster than Detective Fuller was trying my patience.

“Not much.”

“Any specifics?”

“I had no idea where the detective was going. He didn’t say. He stopped by and filled his bike up with gas that morning, and we chatted about the weather not being great for a ride, what with the rain and all.”

“And … ?”

“And he said the weather was perfect on account of it matched his mood and all. I told him to take it easy, and he said he would. He was stopping by Gretta’s for some food and supplies, and then he was taking off. That’s all.”

“Did Ms. Gonzales ask about anything else?” Detective Fuller asked.

“Nope, that was it.” Bob shrugged. Then his face puckered up. “Wait, there was one more thing.”

“Yes?” I pounced, encouraging him to continue in the name of all that was holy before I lost my sanity completely.

“Well, she asked for directions to Gretta’s Mini-Mart, and then she asked for directions to your place, Miss Meadows.”

“My place?” I frowned. “Whatever for?”

“I have no clue. She just said she needed to see you and the last time she was there she took a cab, so she couldn’t remember the way. I gave her directions and then she left. Simple as that.”

There wasn’t anything at all simple about that. Isabel Gonzales had wanted to see me on the day that she died, and I feared I would never know why.

“Well, all righty then,” Detective Fuller said. “Thank you for your time, Bob. You have a good day, now.”

Once we were back in the detective’s car, he looked at me. “I’m in the mood to go shopping. How about you?”

“I’d say you read my mind.”

“Well, bless your heart, Sunny Meadows. What brings you to my humble little abode today? Doing some more shopping for that darling grandmother of yours?” Gretta asked, grabbing my hands and giving them a squeeze.

She had tightly cropped silver hair, big silver hoop earrings, bright makeup, and clothes that were way too tight and much more appropriate for someone half her age. At sixty, she kept herself in great shape and wanted to make sure the world knew it. Unfortunately, the ensemble came off as tacky rather than tasteful, but she was a sweetheart.

That’s what made this so hard.

“I wish that were the case. Unfortunately I’m here on official business.”

Detective Fuller finished parking the car and came in to the mini-mart to join me. The store’s theme was flower power. The floor was covered in grass green linoleum, and the walls were painted sunflower yellow. But Gretta hadn’t stopped there. Just about every kind of flower in all the colors of the rainbow had been stenciled everywhere, without any apparent rhyme or reason.

She referred to the look as wall art. Looked more like attack
of the killer daisies to me, but I’d never say so. It was a reflection of her personality, much like my sanctuary was a reflection of mine. The store was Gretta’s life. If her “wall art” made her happy, then that was all that mattered, no matter how dizzy it made me. I stifled a sneeze.

“Official business?” Gretta’s forehead puckered in confusion, and her gaze fell on Detective Fuller. “Oh, I see.” Her smile slipped, and her gaze darted around the grocery aisles, but the place was pretty empty. “Emma, watch the front, please. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“Okay, Ms. Frey,” Emma answered, watching us with curiosity as we followed Gretta into her office.

Gretta shut the door, and then turned around to face us with crossed arms. “I assume this is about that uppity Isabel Gonzales, who shook up this town and then got herself killed.”

“You would be right, ma’am,” Detective Fuller said.