Authors: Jessica Beck
Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth
“Howdy yourself. How’s your investigation going?”
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?” I asked with a grin.
“Let’s just say that I hope your case is going better than mine. Right now the bad guys are way ahead.”
“But you’ll catch them sooner or later,” I said. “I have faith in you.”
“I’m glad at least one of us does. Have you made much progress so far?”
I told him all that Grace and I had uncovered since we’d spoken last, and he whistled softly after I finished relaying what Harry had just told us. “What do you think, Jake? Should I tell Chief Martin about the mileage differential?” I asked.
“Suzanne, do you really want my opinion, or should I just tell you what I think you want to hear?”
“Okay, you’re right. I know the answers to both of those questions,” I said. “I’m just afraid if I tell Chief Martin about what I found out, he’ll investigate, and it won’t take much to track it back to Harry. It could be enough for him to lose his job, and I couldn’t stand having that on my conscience.”
“Hang on a second. Didn’t you just tell me that Mrs. Pinerush offered to cooperate with your investigation?” Jake asked.
“She did.”
“Then it’s simple. Just ask her about it.”
“What are you suggesting? Do you expect me to just come right out and ask for her help in proving that her son might be a killer?” I had a sudden thought. “Grace, turn around. We have to go back to the manor.”
“Why, did you forget something?”
“I’ll explain to Jake, and you can listen in, too,” I said.
She did as I asked, and as we headed back to Pinerush, I told Jake, “I’m going to ask Anne for help, but not like that. What if I ask her for permission to interview the staff about James? I won’t tell her what I’m really up to, but I don’t think I’ll have to. She was pretty supportive of what we are doing.”
“That way you get the information yourself from Benny so that you don’t have to implicate Harry. Smart move.”
I always enjoyed being praised. Who didn’t?
“Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jake said. “I’ll touch base with you tomorrow. Watch yourself, Suzanne.”
“You, too,” I said, and then hung up
“That’s pretty brilliant,” Grace said. “How’d you come up with it?”
“I don’t know. I must just be talented that way,” I said with a smile.
* * *
As promised, Anne was willing to help. She gave us permission to speak with the staff still there and Grace and I headed straight for the garage. Benny confirmed what Harry had told us, and our friend was officially off the hook. I looked for him so that I could tell him just that, but he wasn’t around as far as Grace and I could see.
Maybe he was back at the café romancing Lynette, but I doubted it. I would definitely have to have a word with him about the waitress before this was over.
Driving back to April Springs yet again, I dialed the police chief’s number. When he answered, I asked, “Do you have a second?”
“Just about that. Is this about the murder?”
“It is.” I told him what we’d discovered, stressing the fact that we’d dined with Mrs. Pinerush at her insistence, and that we’d discovered that Forrest might have had the opportunity to kill James himself.
“I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow,” he said. “Is that it?”
“I was hoping you might be in a sharing mood yourself,” I said. It was a long shot, but still worth a try.
He paused a few moments, and then said, “A single thrust to the chest killed James Settle. Whoever stabbed him either got very lucky, or they knew what they were doing.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I wish I knew. Anyway, there it is, for what it’s worth.”
After we hung up, I relayed the information to Grace.
“Wow, I can’t believe he told you anything,” she said.
“It wasn’t much.”
“Come on, don’t kid yourself. He’s sharing information with us. That’s got to mean something.”
“Just that we need to keep digging,” I said.
“Any suggestions?” she asked.
“How do you feel about getting a trim?” I asked. “We need to go to Cutnip and see if Rebecca was telling us the truth about her hair appointment.”
“Oh, no. Wilma Gentry’s not touching a hair on my head. If you want the information, you’re going to have to sit in that chair yourself.”
“We could always just flip a coin for it,” I suggested.
“The only way I’m willing to do that is if it’s heads I win, tails you lose,” she said.
“Fine, I’ll take one for the cause,” I said.
“Good, because that’s the only way you’re going to get me to set one foot inside that shop,” Grace said as she headed toward town, and our next interview.
CHAPTER 12
It was late, so Wilma was off duty, but maybe that was for the best. I found one of her employees, Cynthia, finishing up with a client, so we decided to wait.
“If you’ll both take seats, I’ll be with you shortly.”
We did as she asked, and I realized that it was a good thing to find her working the evening shift by herself tonight. She was the most conservative of Cutnip’s stylists, and closest to my age. It also helped that Cynthia had aided a few of our investigations in the past, so maybe she wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again.
After her client paid and left the salon, Cynthia looked at us. “Okay, ladies, who wants to go first?”
“We’re not here for haircuts,” I said.
“Shampoos?”
“No, not that, either. We were hoping that you could give us a little information,” I said.
Cynthia frowned before speaking. “Wilma doesn’t like us talking about our customers. I assume that’s what you want to know, right?”
“She doesn’t have to know that we were even here,” Grace said.
“Let me explain. We’re trying to find James Settle’s killer,” I said. “Surely you want to help us find a killer.”
“Of course I do,” Cynthia replied. “I liked James. In fact, the last time I saw him, he had a present for me.”
“Really?” I asked. “Do you mind telling us what it was?”
“I can do better than that. I can show you.” She reached into her styled updo hair and pulled out a delicately crafted pin. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked as she handed it to me.
I took it and studied the fine work James had done on it for her. The long and thin iron pin had been hammered to perfection and buffed until it gleamed like stainless steel. On one end of the pin was a small butterfly, also carefully crafted by hand. It was a far cry from the skewers he’d made for me. “James did this? It’s magnificent.”
She took it back from me and redid her hair. I wasn’t exactly sure how she did it—her hands had moved that quickly—but the new hairdo was completed in a heartbeat. “He was thinking about branching out into jewelry, and I was a tester for him. I came out beautifully in the deal, since he let me have the prototypes after he was finished with them.”
“It’s a far cry from rings made out of horseshoe nails,” I said.
“Oh, he did those, too, but this was going to be his newest creation. I had orders ready for him from the moment I showed the pin around. Now he’s gone, and I’m the only one who will have one.” She started to clean her station as she added, “I can’t force you two to leave if you want to stay, but I’ve got to clean up.”
I was about to ask her again to help us, but before I could, she added, “If you want to chat about anything random that’s on your minds, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
I nodded, finally getting it. “We heard that Rebecca Link was here at the exact time that James was stabbed in the park.”
“She told you that?” Cynthia asked. “Why would she say something like that?”
I felt a chill go through me. “Do you mean it’s not true?”
“She was here that day all right, but Rebecca left a good half hour before James was murdered.”
“Are you positive about that?” Grace asked.
“I should be. I’m the one who did her hair.”
“And you’re sure that you couldn’t have made a mistake?” I asked. “I’m not doubting your word for one second, but it’s crucial that we know it’s absolutely true.”
She searched through a small box by her mirror, and after a moment, she handed me one of the cards. “For the past two weeks, Wilma has had us time-stamping these cards to prove how long each job takes us. It’s been driving all of us crazy, but if it helps catch James’s killer, I’m glad she did it.”
I took the card from her and studied the stamp. Sure enough, Cynthia was telling the truth, and what’s more, we could prove it. I had another thought. “Does Wilma still have that copier in back? I’d love to have a duplicate of this.”
“She does, but I can’t leave the front to run it for you,” Cynthia said.
“I can do it,” Grace said as she took the card from me. She winked at Cynthia as she said, “For the record, I never asked you for permission, and you tried to stop me, but I was determined to do it.”
“Hopefully it won’t come up,” Cynthia said, and then bit her lower lip.
As Grace disappeared in back, I asked Cynthia, “Do you have any idea who might have killed James? Is Rebecca capable of committing murder?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine
anyone
doing something so terrible. It’s true that Rebecca didn’t want to accept the fact that James had moved on, but she seemed so sure that she was going to get him back. Would she have told me that and then gone out and killed the man she said she loved?”
“I see what you mean. Did she have any idea who James had moved on with?” I asked. I knew that Trish had been seeing him, but it was a question I needed to ask. For all I knew, Cynthia might have an entirely different answer to that question.
“Trish was seeing him, but then you knew that, didn’t you?”
There was a hint of hurt in Cynthia’s voice as she asked me that, and I felt bad for a few seconds. “I wasn’t trying to trick you,” I explained. “I just wanted to be sure we both came up with the same answer. Did Rebecca know about Trish?”
“If she did, she didn’t say anything to me about it. It was almost as though the other woman in James’s life didn’t even count.”
“She mattered to him. I’m sure of it.”
“Trish didn’t do it,” Cynthia said firmly.
“You seem sure of that.”
“Of course I am. Aren’t you?”
“I am,” I admitted, “but we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“And I’ve been doing her hair for nearly as long,” Cynthia said. “I know the woman, and she’s no killer.”
“Who else might have done it?” I asked.
Cynthia thought a moment, and then said, “Three weeks ago Murphy Armstrong brought me a few rings from James to try out. Murphy was upset about something, but when I asked him about it, he just grunted at me. I had the idea right then that the two of them were going through a tough time.”
That just confirmed something else that Grace and I had learned, and though we had that letter to prove our theory, it didn’t hurt to hear it from Cynthia as well.
“Is there anyone else? How about family?”
“As far as I know, James didn’t have any family.”
“Would you be surprised to learn that he did?” I asked.
“I’d be shocked,” she said.
“They don’t live around here, but he had an aunt and a cousin living in Pinerush.”
Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “Are you telling me that James grew up there? That’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”
I almost told her that his family had founded the town, but I decided that the fewer folks in April Springs who knew that, the better.
Grace came out waving a sheet of paper in her hand. “That thing is a dinosaur. I had a devil of a time figuring out how to work it. Why doesn’t Wilma upgrade to something made in the last twenty years instead of that relic?”
“She pinches pennies until they scream for mercy,” Cynthia said.
“Anything else you’d like to add?” I asked as Grace returned the stamped original card to Cynthia.
She started to say something when the door opened and Betilda Enwright came in. The heavyset matron was clearly unhappy to find us there the moment she spotted Grace and me. “I had an appointment, Cynthia. These two will just have to wait until you’re finished with me.”
“We were just on our way out,” I told Betilda with a smile. She wasn’t one of my big fans, but she surely loved my donuts.
Betilda studied us both, and then nodded in approval. “Cynthia has outdone herself. You two look marvelous.”
“Thanks so much,” Grace said. “We owe it all to our stylist. Cynthia is just wonderful, isn’t she?”
“She’s very good,” Betilda said grudgingly, as though the words of praise cost her per syllable.
“Thanks again,” I said to Cynthia.
“Come again any time,” she said, and then turned to her client. “What look are we going for this evening, Betilda?”
“I want to look just like Charlize Theron,” she said.
I pushed Grace out the door quickly so Betilda wouldn’t hear our laughter. The woman had as much chance of looking like the movie star as I had of sprouting wings and flying away. I couldn’t see how Cynthia could do anything but fail epically based on the request, and I didn’t envy her the task of even trying. Once again, I was glad to be a donutmaker, and not someone folks expected miracles from.
After Grace and I shared a few laughs at Betilda’s expense, I asked her, “So, was Rebecca honestly mistaken about the time she was here, or did she lie to us on purpose?”
“I wish I knew.”
“It’s not too much of a leap to believe that the police chief is going to speak with Rebecca soon about her alibi, if he hasn’t yet. I just hope that Cynthia doesn’t let it slip that we asked first.”
“She’ll keep it quiet,” Grace said.
“I think so, too. I just hope she does.” As I stared off into the night, I asked, “So, where does that leave us?”
“I’d like to talk to Murphy again, how about you?”
“You just can’t stay away, can you? Grace, the man has a serious crush on you. You need to be careful around him.”
“Murphy’s not a threat,” Grace said. “I can handle him.”
“I wonder if James thought the exact same thing,” I said. I hadn’t meant to be so blunt about it, but I wanted to be sure that Grace was careful around the man.