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Authors: Jessica Beck

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth

Illegally Iced (9 page)

BOOK: Illegally Iced
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The chief nodded. “I can see that, but I still can’t rule them out, no matter what the two of you might think.” He paused, and then asked, “You both are going to keep at this, aren’t you?”

“We’ll do our utmost not to interfere with your investigation, but folks around town are already whispering that I might have been involved in his murder despite your endorsement earlier. I really don’t have much choice.”

“You could leave it all in my hands and trust me,” he said with a slight smile.

“You’re right; I could do that,” I answered, doing my best to keep a straight face.

“But you’re not, are you?”

“Not so much,” I replied.

“Just don’t do anything that might embarrass your mother, or make
me
embarrass her.”

There was a bit of a sting to his words, though he hadn’t changed his tone or demeanor. My mother was a powerful woman in April Springs, and I would have never knowingly done anything to cause her embarrassment. Then again, I’d managed a few times in the past despite my good intentions, so it wasn’t as though the chief didn’t have a point.

“I’ll do the best I can,” I said.

He nodded, and as he turned to go back inside, I grabbed Grace and got out of there. If we hung around the cabin much longer, I was sure we’d get instructions very soon not to talk to Rebecca and Murphy.

“What’s the rush?” Grace asked as we neared her car.

“We need to find our two other suspects before the chief tracks them down himself,” I said.

Grace nodded, and it was clear that she didn’t have any problems with that strategy. “I’m not sure where Murphy is, but Rebecca is bound to be at work. She’s been pulling double shifts at the Happy Stop convenience store out on the highway for months.”

“That sounds good. Grace, do you happen to have a small flashlight in your pocket that I could use while you drive?”

“Sure, there’s one in my purse. Help yourself. What are you going to look at?”

I pulled the journal out of my purse and held it up. “I know I should have given this to Chief Martin, and I will the first thing tomorrow, but I had to see what it said for myself first.”

“You took that from James’s desk?” she asked incredulously.

“I know. I shouldn’t have done it. Are you disappointed in me?”

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t be any prouder of you than I am right now. Hang on a second.” She pulled her car off into the church parking lot and turned on the lights in the car. “Now we can both read it together.”

I opened the book and started scanning the pages. At first it didn’t look like much, filled with entries about new designs and sketches, a grocery list or two, and even the addresses of some of his clients.

“It’s not much, is it?” Grace asked, clearly disappointed by my find.

“What a letdown. Now I really regret not giving it to the chief,” I said.

“You keep looking, and I’ll drive to Happy Stop.”

As she drove, I flipped through the pages quickly. What I’d assumed at first glance was a journal entry was actually something detailing a new technique for welding iron. It looked to be a complete bust. I was about to put it away when something on the very last page caught my eye.

It was a phone number, but that wasn’t the most surprising part.

What nearly threw me for a loop was the name scrawled under it.

It was Trish Granger, my dear friend who ran the Boxcar Grill. Now, why in the world would James have her number? Was she the new woman in his life that I suspected? It would explain why she’d reacted so badly to the news of his murder.

I pulled out my phone and Grace asked, “Who are you calling?”

“Nobody,” I said as I started punching buttons to call up my personal contact list.

“Sorry to doubt you, but it looks suspiciously like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Hang on a second and I’ll explain,” I said. I got to Trish’s info, and sure enough, below the number for the diner was her cell phone number. Almost nobody had that one because Trish hated people calling her when she was off. She’d told me once just three people had it, and that I should be honored that I was one of them.

It looked like now there were four, though.

“Trish’s number is in James’s book.”

“For the diner? That doesn’t surprise me. He probably ordered a lot of takeout food. You saw that kitchen of his.”

“No, you don’t understand; it’s her personal number. When I spoke with her earlier today, she was really upset. I thought it was because there was a murder so close to the diner, but now I’m starting to think that it’s something a lot more than that.”

Grace whistled softly. “That’s not good. What are you going to do?”

“We obviously need to talk to her, but there are a few more pressing conversations we need to have first.”

“I mean about the number. Are you going to just leave it in there, or are you going to tear it out of the book?”

I stared down at the book, wishing that I’d never taken it. “As much as I want to rip out the page, I can’t. It’s just not right destroying something that might be evidence.”

“Do you actually think that she might have done it?” Grace asked, having a hard time believing it herself.

“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I can tamper with this journal. I’m sure she’ll be cleared, but she has to go through the process first.”

Grace nodded, and then asked casually, “What would you have done if it had been my telephone number written there?”

“I’d have a lot of questions for you, that’s for sure,” I said, trying to blow it off.

“Seriously,” Grace said.

I thought about it. “Grace, I would still leave it there for the police. Before you get upset, you should know that I’d expect you to do the exact same thing if it were my name and number there instead. In nine out of ten cases, we both know that the cover-up is worse than the crime. Not to say that I think that any one of us would ever kill someone, but it’s better to bring this out in the open sooner rather than later.”

“That makes sense,” Grace said. “Still, it’s pretty pragmatic of you to feel that way.”

“We’ve both been around these investigations enough to realize that the truth has a way of getting loose, and the harder you try to hide it, the more it fights to get free.”

Just to be certain, I scanned each page of the journal one more time, but there was nothing else of interest there. When I looked up, I saw that we were nearing the police department. “Pull in,” I told Grace.

“Why, are you going to confess something?” she asked with a smile.

As I wiped the book with my T-shirt as best I could, I explained, “We’re going to drop this off in the mailbox so it can get into the right hands.”

“And you don’t think the chief will suspect that it was us?”

“Oh, I’m betting he’ll be sure of it, but I doubt that he’ll say anything to us about it.”

Grace raised an eyebrow as she asked, “Why would you possibly think that?”

“He doesn’t want to cause any more trouble with Momma than he has to. They’re already on edge with each other about me, and I’ve got a feeling the chief will let this one slide to insure a little harmony with my mother.”

“Suzanne Hart, are you using your personal status for your own gain?”

“You bet I am,” I answered with a smile. “It’s about time I could use it somehow for something besides getting into trouble. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

I was walking to the mailbox and ready to slip the journal inside when someone called my name from the shadows and nearly gave me a heart attack in the process.

“Suzanne, what are you up to now?”

There was no way I was getting away with this.

*   *   *

My heart finally stopped racing when I saw Officer Grant step out of the darkness and walk toward me.

“What are you doing out lurking in the dark like that?” I asked.

“I wasn’t lurking,” he said with a smile I could see from the streetlight’s illumination. “I’m on the desk again, and this is my ten-minute break. I came outside because I wanted to see what fresh air was like again.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t like you, does he?”

“The chief has his reasons for everything he does,” Grant said, and I admired him for his ability to keep his true feelings to himself. At least I hoped he didn’t actually believe what he was saying. Hiding the way I really felt about people was a skill I hadn’t even come close to mastering yet.

“I asked you a question,” he repeated a little more firmly. “What’s going on, and why are you wearing a dress?”

“Why is everyone making such a fuss about it? It’s not like it never happens.”

“It’s rare enough to note,” he said. “But that doesn’t explain anything, does it?”

“I found something, and I thought the chief might like to see it,” I said as I held the journal up in the air.

“What is it?” he asked.

As I started to hand it over, I explained, “This belonged to James Settle. I found it earlier, and I thought the chief should see it.”

“Where did you come across it?” he asked, being very careful not to touch it.

“In his cabin just before Chief Martin got there,” I admitted. I wasn’t going to lie to my friend. “Only I’d appreciate if you’d tell him that it was dropped off here anonymously.”

He shook his head as he put his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, but I won’t lie to my boss for you.”

“Does that mean that you don’t want it?” I asked incredulously.

“Not in my hands. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my desk.”

As he started to turn back, he said, “I usually check the mailbox on my next break. If I should happen to find something in there, I’d have no real way of knowing how it got there, now would I?”

After Officer Grant was back inside, I smiled as I dropped the journal into the mailbox. He’d given me an out, and I’d taken it gladly.

As I got back into the car, Grace said, “For a second there, I thought I was going to have to use our emergency bail money to get you out of jail.”

“Do you really have a fund earmarked just for that?”

“You’d better believe it. I’ve been saving since we first started digging into murders. One of these days it’s going to come in really handy.”

“Just not today, gladly.” I recounted my exchange with Officer Grant, and she laughed when she heard his solution. “The man’s clever, isn’t he?”

A thought suddenly occurred to me. Grace had had some truly horrid luck in the past in her love life. Maybe she’d been going after the wrong kind of men. “And nice looking, too.”

“Suzanne, I thought you were happy with Jake.”

“I am,” I said quickly. “But you’re available. You could do a lot worse than him.”

“Date a cop? I don’t know about that.”

I laughed. “Don’t knock it until you try it. If you need a couple of testimonials, Momma and I would be happy to provide them.”

“I didn’t mean anything by what I just said,” she added quickly.

“I know that. I’m just saying, he’s a good guy in my book, and there isn’t an overabundance of those roaming the streets these days.”

“Or any days,” she replied.

I thought about pushing a little harder, but knowing Grace, that was the worst thing I could do. I’d planted the seed, and now it was time to step back and see if it sprouted. I honestly believed that Grace deserved another chance at love.

 

CHAPTER 6

As Grace pulled up to the convenience store parking lot, I glanced at my watch. It was getting late, at least for me, but this was too important to just pass up. We walked inside, ready to question Rebecca about her relationship with James and her alibi, but there was an older heavyset man behind the register instead.

“Is Rebecca here?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, she called in sick. There was a death in the family.”

I nodded, and Grace and I left the store. “It looks like she’s taking it hard.”

“You read the card, too,” Grace said. “Neither one of us should be surprised. So, should we go looking for Murphy now?”

“Okay,” I said, stifling a yawn.

Grace shook her head. “Suzanne, I can be a real dope sometimes. You need to go home and get some sleep.”

“It’s okay,” I insisted.

“No it’s not. I don’t want to be the one who’s responsible if you put cherry filling in the lemon-filled donuts tomorrow. I’ve got some errands to run in the morning, but I’ll be at the shop at eleven-thirty, okay? We can pick up where we left off.”

“That sounds great, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” I said. I was beat, even though the hour was early for just about anyone else. To be fair, though, they didn’t have to get up when I did, either.

She dropped me off at my Jeep, and I followed her home. As Grace turned into her driveway, I beeped my horn once and headed on to the cottage Momma and I shared. I was looking forward to a quick conversation on the phone with Jake, and then an abbreviated night’s sleep.

I had the perfect plan, but I never got to use it.

Momma was standing by the front door, and from the expression on her face, we were about to have a conversation that I was nearly positive I wasn’t going to enjoy.

“Young lady, what exactly have you been up to this evening?” she asked the second my foot hit the first step.

“You’re going to have to be little more specific than that, Momma. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

She didn’t crack a smile at that, a bad sign. “I just spoke with Phillip on the telephone. What were you thinking?”

“Was he honestly
that
upset Grace and I were at James’s cabin? I didn’t think he had a huge problem with it at the time.”

Momma frowned as she somehow managed to look down on me, a neat trick since we were both on the porch and I was a good half a foot taller than she was. “I’m talking about the journal, Suzanne.”

So Officer Grant had ratted me out after all. He was going to get a stale donut the next time he came into the shop. “He actually called you about that?”

“What would you rather have had him do, arrest you?”

“Momma, I gave it right back,” I protested.

“Suzanne Hart, I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. You stepped over the line, and you need to make this right with Phillip, and I mean right now. I will not have you stealing evidence in a murder investigation, not to mention interfering with my relationship with your actions, do you understand?”

BOOK: Illegally Iced
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