Freezer I'll Shoot (A Vintage Kitchen Mystery) (16 page)

He trotted off to consult with Roger, Daniel and Grant, leaving Jaymie in the shade, watching the hubbub. She retreated inside, made stacks of sandwiches and wraps for lunch, also cutting the rest of the sandwich loaf into slices, and brought them out with a dozen or so bottles of water and cans of pop. They ate lunch; then everyone went back to the task at hand.

Many hands make light work, it is said, and that turned out to be true. By late afternoon, with Sammy’s excellent direction, the sod was mostly done, and the water, electrical and sound wiring was planned and the trench dug, waiting for the professionals. The last bit of sod would be laid after the wiring was done, and trees and perennial plants to implement Sammy’s vision were to be delivered the next day. Daniel suggested they order dinner in for everyone, and Jaymie suggested they go to the Ice House instead.

Daniel eyed her, with a question in his eyes, but agreed. Jaymie invited Sammy, and he said yes, if he could bring his mom.

Her voice clogged with emotion, Jaymie squeezed his shoulder and said, “Of course. You’re a nice kid, to think of your mom like that.”

He squinted up at the descending sun, the freckles across his nose standing out and the sunlight picking golden highlights out in his sandy hair. His expression serious, he said, “I’m all she’s got now. Dad wasn’t much good, but at least he was someone to look after, you know? She lives for that kind of stuff, cooking and cleaning. That’s why she wants to move to be near me when I go to college next month.”

Jaymie still believed, despite Daniel’s doubt, that Evelyn would enjoy life a lot better now. Her beloved son was able to do what he wanted, and she now had the freedom to take care of him near his college of choice. It had to be better than staying on the island looking after an insufferable ass of a husband, while worrying that her son wasn’t being allowed to pursue his passion. But she wasn’t about to make such a comment. “We’ll meet you and your mom at the restaurant, okay?”

Everyone parted ways to clean up, Daniel, the dads and Jaymie using the cottage. Grant Watson refused the dinner offer. He was going back to the mainland, he said, to find out what trouble his wife, Mimi, and Jaymie’s mom had gotten into. Jaymie called her mom, to see whether she wanted to come over to the island and join them for dinner, but she was taken up with Anna, Tabitha and Anna’s cousin, Pam, and told them to go ahead and have dinner at the Ice House, as long as her husband made the last ferry back.

Jaymie walked Hoppy, then, at about eight, locked him up in the cottage with a bowl of crunchies. The four of them walked down to the marina before heading to the restaurant, where they were going to meet Sammy and his mother. Daniel wanted to show his dad the marina, and he pointed out the path on the Queensville side of the river, where he and Jaymie had watched the July Fourth sailboat race, and where they often walked.

It was a lovely evening. From looking like it was going to storm again, the late-day mugginess had eased off. A breeze now scooted along the river, blowing away the clouds that had been so ominous earlier.

Roger and Jaymie’s dad walked down the pier that cradled the marina. “I want to show Roger the Redmonds’ boat, the
Heartbreak Kid
,” he called back to his daughter. The Redmond siblings’ boat was gorgeous, all sleek, polished wood and brass. Many people took the walk to admire it, where it sat in the last slip near the ferry dock.

“Sure, you guys go ahead.”

Daniel took her hand and led her to a bench by the marina. “Sit. You look tired.”

They sat for a few minutes, while the sky turned a pinky-orange color to the west, over the rooftops of Queensville.

“Jaymie, I’m sorry about that crack this morning, about romance novels.”

“It bugged me,” she admitted, turning on the bench to look into his brown eyes. “Why does everyone believe that if you read romance novels, you must have your head in the clouds and believe that the world is full of rainbows and unicorns? I’d never make assumptions about someone who . . . I don’t know . . . read spy novels or murder mysteries. I don’t figure that folks who read murder mysteries are bloodthirsty!”

“I know. I was wrong.”

She smiled over at him. One of his many charms was the ability to truly apologize with sincerity and absolutely no irony or subtext. “Forgiven, and it’s forgotten.”

“You have seemed a little distracted lately, though,” he added, his smile dying.

Aha. So maybe he was still brooding about the Zack problem. Her little slip that morning, the hesitation in calling Daniel her boyfriend to Sammy, had not gone unnoticed. “It’s the murder. Finding a body—especially when it’s your third in three months—is upsetting. Am I some kind of trouble magnet all of a sudden?”

“Just bad luck,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.

“There’s something I haven’t told anyone yet,” she said. She felt him stiffen, and looked up at him. His expression was blank, but his posture was stiff. “Why do you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Every time I say anything like I want to talk, or I have something to say, you stiffen up and get this look, like you’re going to be a strong little soldier and not cry.”

“I don’t do that.” He frowned and looked down at her. “Do I?”

“You do.”

He rolled his shoulders and moved his neck, as if he was holding tension there. “I guess it’s just a reflex. Whenever Trish would say that, it would mean she was about to drop a bomb. I guess it’s just reflexive.”

“Daniel, your mom said that the trouble with Trish happened five years ago. Are you
ever
going to get over being dumped? Was she the love of your life or something?” Jaymie was a little exasperated, and it showed in her voice.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t
think
so?”

“No, of
course
she wasn’t. I didn’t mean to express any doubt, Jaymie. It’s just a word.”

Just a word. Words held meaning, she had always believed, so why should this be any different? “Let’s get going to the restaurant,” Jaymie said, standing. She was being irrational and she knew it. What was wrong with her? As she watched Roger Collins walking back toward them, deep in conversation with her father, she knew what it was.

How could she not even have known Daniel’s natural dad died when he was young? It had thrown her for a loop. It might not be the kind of information you led with—
Hi, I’m Daniel Collins and I lost my father at a young age—
but it was certainly something that should have come up in the last several months they had been dating. It led her to wonder what else she didn’t know about him. She was an open book, but was he?

She walked toward the fathers, near the marina office. Just then the door to the office flung open. Garnet Redmond stormed out, and shouted back in the door, “I won’t be jerked around, Will. I mean it!” He stomped off toward the stairs that led up to the road above the marina, not even noticing Jaymie and the others.

Will Lindsay came out, locked the office, then noticed Jaymie and Daniel. Jaymie walked over to him. “What was up with Garnet?”

The marina owner shook his head. “I just flat-out told him I was advising Sammy and Evelyn not to sell right away, to give it some time.”

“He didn’t take it well.”

“No. Garnet Redmond doesn’t like being crossed. I’d better get home; my wife’s expecting me.” He hustled away, walking up the hill away from the marina.

“What was that all about?” Jaymie’s dad asked, as he and Roger Collins approached.

Jaymie explained, lightly, as they walked along the riverbank in the golden glow of the setting sun, then up the deck steps to the Ice House restaurant. As they entered, Jaymie saw Sammy right away, sitting with his mom and a group of older people. Evelyn Dobrinskie looked ill at ease.

When Jaymie approached and took Sammy aside, she said, “So . . . who are all these people?”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “When I got home, Dad’s family was there. They came over from Canada to talk to Mom about the memorial service. I only see them once every couple of years, but Mom couldn’t really say no. I mean, they’re my grandma and aunts and uncles.”

“Uh . . . Sam, when Daniel invited you and your mom to dinner—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it!” the kid said, his cheeks glowing red. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his narrow shoulders. “We’re eating here; then we gotta get going . . . find them all places to stay. But I’m . . . I mean, my mom is paying. For our family, I mean.”

Placing her hands on his shoulders, Jaymie shook him slightly and said, “Sam, you’ve done a great job today. I really appreciate how you took charge and helped us out. Especially with all you’re dealing with right now.” She impulsively drew him into a hug, and when she released him she saw how the red cheeks had spread to red ears and neck. “You’ll get through this. Will we see you tomorrow, or . . . You should spend time with your family, I guess. We can go on without you, right?”

“I want to help,” he said, fervently. “Unless my mom needs me, I’ll be at your place tomorrow morning.”

“Does your mom have family? Will they be coming, too?”

“I sure hope not. I just want to get this all over with.”

As he went to sit down, Jaymie saw Ruby and waved, but the restaurant owner didn’t appear to see her. Just then, the waitress they’d had at Ambrosio approached.

“Hey, guys, can I find you a table?” she said.

“You go on ahead,” Jaymie said to Daniel and the dads. “I want to talk to Ruby.” She followed her island neighbor as the woman headed down a private hallway behind the bar area, trotting to catch up with her, but when she turned a corner, it was to find Ruby crumpled into ball beyond a bend in the hall, huddled on the floor, her head on her knees. “Ruby! What’s wrong?”

“He did it . . . I know he did it. Garnet killed Urban Dobrinskie for
me
!”

Sixteen

“G
ARNET KILLED URBAN?”
Jaymie gasped.

Shivering, her tear-streaked, ashen face turned up to Jaymie, Ruby grabbed the short sleeve of her T-shirt and scrubbed at her eyes, leaving a trail of mascara on her cheek. “I don’t know what to think. He says he didn’t, and I believe him . . . Really, I do. He’s just not a violent guy.”

“But?” There had to be a “but”; it was unspoken, and yet Jaymie could feel it lingering in the air between them like an odor.

“
But
he was gone from the restaurant that evening for a long time, and when he came back, he was upset. If Urban was killed behind your cottage, then Garnet couldn’t have done it. He was inside the whole time.” She hugged herself. “But if it was earlier, like the detective is implying . . .” Tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head.

“But you say you really don’t believe he did it,” Jaymie said, confused by Ruby’s vacillation.

“I know, I know. I’m not making sense. I think . . . I think I’m breaking down!” she sobbed.

Jaymie helped Ruby stand and walked her back to the employee break room, what used to be the Ice House office, and sat her down, got her a cup of black coffee from an urn by a microwave, then sat beside her at the scarred wooden table, turning the rickety plastic chair to face her neighbor. She was thinking quickly, trying to decide what to say, what to ask, how to handle an emotionally fragile Ruby.

Regarding the woman with a critical eye, she saw someone who was worried, frightened, even. Her skin was ashen, where usually she was ruddy with good health. Wrinkles had appeared that hadn’t been apparent before. Dissecting the crucial parts of Ruby’s assertions, she asked, “Why was Garnet gone from the restaurant that evening? Did he tell you what he was doing?”

Ruby’s gaze flickered away, and she took a sip of coffee. “It’s ridiculous. Of course Garnet didn’t do it! He’s not a killer.”

“Of
course
not,” Jaymie said, keeping her tone soft and soothing. “But you must be worried the police will think he did. Why do you think that?”

She shrugged and looked down at the table. “He hit him; then Urban was dead the very next night. I’m just worried they’ll see something that’s not there.”

“What was Garnet doing that evening?”

“We had some prank calls. Someone kept calling and asking for Garnet, but he was busy, so I answered, and they hung up.”

Sounded a bit like an evasion. Watching Ruby, Jaymie prodded, “You said ‘calls,’ so did Garnet finally answer?”

Ruby shuddered, and nodded.

“And then what?”

“Nothing. Nothing!”

Jaymie pondered, watching Ruby fiddle with her coffee cup. “Did Garnet go out to meet the caller?”

She shrugged. Carefully, she said, “If he did, he didn’t tell me. I mean, why would he?”

“Have you guys talked about that evening at all?”

Ruby shrugged yet again. She was retreating back into her shell; Jaymie could feel it. “Why are you upset if you are so sure Garnet didn’t do anything?”

“I’m just worried about what that detective thinks, I guess,” the woman said, her voice steadier. “He basically said to me that he thought Urban called Garnet to settle their argument, and that they met, quarreled again, and Garnet killed him. He’s getting the restaurant’s phone records. Said if the calls were from Urban, he’d be able to prove it.”

Jaymie thought it through. “He’s fishing, Ruby, trying to fit the facts with a theory, trying to frighten a confession out of one of you. Don’t let it rattle you. What do
you
believe?
Could
Garnet have killed Urban? I mean, what if Urban attacked him and it was self-defense?”

“He’s not a killer,” she repeated, her tone stubborn. She turned her coffee cup around and around, sloshing dark liquid over the side.

Was she stating that, or trying to convince herself? Jaymie pondered the idea that Garnet met Urban, as the result of a phone call, and killed him as she had speculated. But it didn’t seem right. What about the wheelbarrow? The theft of the wheelbarrow the night before implied planning, not a crime of passion. She could believe that Garnet might accidently kill someone when angry, but not that he would cold-bloodedly plan a murder.

Would Garnet kill Urban down at the river’s edge and transport the body to his own backyard? It made no sense at all. Though Jaymie didn’t fill Ruby in on the reasoning—she didn’t want to spoil the detective’s investigation by spilling details she knew or surmised—she tried to reassure her. “
You
know you’re right, and
I
know you’re right. Your brother did not do this, and I would bet on it. After an argument over a sail? That’s ridiculous.”

Ruby still looked haunted. “Who called, though?” she asked, her tone plaintive. “Garnet said he didn’t recognize the voice, but the person asked him to meet him to discuss . . . something.”

Jaymie caught hesitation in Ruby’s demeanor, suddenly. There was something she wasn’t saying. “So what did he do?”

“He . . .” She trailed off.

“He did what?”

“He says he went down to the dock, but no one was there. He waited around awhile, then came back.”

Jaymie decided it was now or never to ask the other woman what had been on her mind since the morning of the murder. “Ruby, I heard you, the morning after the murder; you said, ‘I didn’t mean to do it.’ What were you talking about?”

The older woman shook her head slightly, and was silent. Jaymie’s stomach clenched. She had waited too long; Ruby had regained her composure. There was something, some mystery that Ruby was not revealing. If it had nothing to do with the murder, why didn’t she just tell Jaymie what it was? “Ruby, what did it mean?” she asked.

“It . . . it was nothing. I didn’t mean . . . Obviously it had nothing to do with the murder.”

“Then just tell me what—”

Lisa, the waitress who had guided Daniel and the dads to their table, poked her head in the break room. “
There
you are!” she said to Jaymie. She drummed her fingers on the door, curiosity in her intelligent eyes. Her gaze flicked over to Ruby, who had her head down, then back to Jaymie. “I thought I saw you going this way. Your dad is wondering if you want to order appetizers? They’re starving out there.”

“Can I just have a moment, Lisa?” Jaymie said. “I’ll come out in a sec.”

But Ruby rose and said, “We’re done. You shouldn’t keep your father waiting.” She swept past Lisa and down the hall, past the public washrooms and through the door to the restaurant.

Jaymie stood, staring after her.

“What is up with her?” Lisa said. “Her and Garnet have been fighting, and I’ve never seen that happen.”

“What do they fight about?”

“I don’t know. But it’s like they’ve got some kind of secret, because all of a sudden, they’re fighting in whispers and whenever anyone gets close, they shut up.” The waitress shook her head. “I have this awful feeling like . . . I don’t know, like Ruby is getting ready to leave or something.”

“Leave? What do you mean?”

Lisa checked behind her, down the hall, then came into the break room and shut the door, leaning back against it. “You didn’t hear this from me,” she said in a confidential tone, “but I saw Ruby at the bank in Wolverhampton, and she took out ten thousand dollars in cash. In
cash
! Why else would someone take that kind of cash out of the bank? She’s got to be planning to take off for some reason.” She was silent for a beat, then added, “Please don’t say that to anyone! I don’t want to get Ruby in trouble. I’d better get back to work.”

As Jaymie made her way through the restaurant to her table, she thought that despite Lisa’s assertion, there
were
more explanations for taking cash out of the bank than just leaving town. Was Ruby paying someone off? Planning a secret purchase? Or was she giving the money to someone else to get out of town, someone like . . . Garnet?

“What took you so long, honey?” her dad said when she got to the table and sat down. “We’re starving here, after a long day of working hard.”

“Sorry. Just . . . just a girl thing,” she said, the first thing that came to her mind. It effectively shut the guys up, but Daniel raised his brows. She mouthed “later” to him, and he nodded.

Dinner was uneventful and good. But Jaymie was distracted, wondering about what she had learned, and more important, what she hadn’t learned. What was Ruby Redmond hiding?

• • •

THERE WAS SOME
awkwardness, later, as they got ready to leave the restaurant. Daniel’s father seemed to think that his son would be staying on the island overnight. Jaymie’s face flamed at the idea. She and Daniel were not to that point yet in their relationship, and she didn’t know when they would be. So far he hadn’t pushed it, and she was grateful. She was silent for a moment, not sure what to say, as she walked with them all down the board deck toward the road that wound along the river to the marina.

Daniel stepped in to save Jaymie embarrassment, saying, “I’ll go back to Queensville with you, Dad, and come back out here tomorrow morning. I have to, uh, check my email, and stuff.”

Not true, because he had his cell phone with him and had checked it on and off all day. But she squeezed his arm in gratitude and walked them to the ferry dock. She never did have a chance to share with Daniel what she had learned and
not
learned, but figured they’d have time the next day.

She returned alone to the cottage. It was late. While Hoppy had his evening piddle and sniffed around at the new grass and trees in the dark, near the back deck, Jaymie sat on the step watching the stars. What had she learned over the last few hours? For one thing, she would swear that Sammy did not know that his father was killed elsewhere and brought to the property after death. If she was right, that, of course, eliminated him as a suspect in the killing of his father, but did not clear his mother. She had lied about her son being home, probably because she wanted him to have some kind of alibi, but why did she not just say he was home all evening, just as she was?

Was it because at some point in the evening on the night her husband died she was
not
home? Sammy had almost said something like that that very morning; he had been on the brink, it had seemed, of saying that after his dad went out, his mom followed. Was it physically possible for a woman like Evelyn to move a heavy body? Not likely, and not easily, but it was possible, she supposed, especially if she had planned ahead and had the wheelbarrow stashed somewhere.

And the nagging questions still lingered; with whom was Urban having an affair? And did that unknown woman have anything to do with his death? What if she was married, and her husband found out about them? Hmm. Zack’s implication that Urban could have been on the Canadian side of the island that night threaded through her mind, too, and she wondered whether it was true.

Jaymie was deeply disturbed by her conversation with Ruby, and could not ignore it. The woman was scared, and it had something to do with Garnet. Why else would she blurt out that her brother killed the man? If it was true that she was having an affair with Urban, maybe Garnet didn’t approve, or maybe Urban, given his propensity for domestic violence, hurt her at some point, and Garnet stepped in. What brother wouldn’t? But she kept coming back to one firm conviction: Garnet would not deliberately bring a dead body to his own doorstep, especially not the body of a man he had punched just hours before.

It was confusing, a tangled web of deceit and violence.

She slept fitfully, and awoke the next morning hoping to figure out some of the mysteries that were swallowing up her and the peace of her island haven. After a quick shower and a little walk to let Hoppy piddle, she called Valetta, knowing that her friend would be having her pre-work cup of tea on her front porch. A dedicated gossip, Valetta never missed an opportunity to watch the neighborhood, just to keep her eye on what was what, though gossip was more often delivered to her via the shoppers who came into the Emporium.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s shaking?” Valetta said, her tone chipper as usual.

Jaymie filled her friend in on some of her suspicions and new knowledge. “What was it that you said about Garnet and Ruby?”