Kari Lee Townsend - Sunny Meadows 04 - Perish in the Palm (14 page)

“Maybe he—” Jo started to say.

“Was trying to help her sort out this whole mess.” Zoe cut her off and shot me a look that said,
No worries, I’ve got your back, and yes, she’s done lost her mind.

“Well, whatever he wanted, I’m sure the police will figure it out,” I chimed in, shooting a
Shut up now!
look at Jo.

She jerked as if the I’m-having-a-baby-and-can’t-think-straight goggles had finally, blessedly, thankfully been lifted.

“Everyone looks great, Raoulle,” Zoe chimed in. “I think we’re done here, Sunny, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” I knew exactly what I was going to do with the rest of my day. I was going to pay a certain accountant a little visit. Presuming I could find him, that is. He’d been laying low lately, but I was a resourceful psychic. How hard could it be?

O
kay, so it was harder to find Brice than I thought. It didn’t matter that Divinity was a small town, and being psychic was no help when I didn’t have anything of Brice’s to read. So basically I had driven all over the place, trying to catch sight of him without much luck: he wasn’t at work, he wasn’t at home, he wasn’t around town. I’d checked the library, the grocery store, the hardware store, the auto body shop, I’d even checked the hospital. It was foggy and dreary and just plain spooky out today.

Not a very good omen in my book.

I remembered him acting afraid and preferring jail to dealing with the thugs who had roughed up Peirce because of the bad investment. Where would I go if I were afraid and needing help and wanting to be safe from bad guys? I knew he hadn’t gone to the police because Mitch would have told me. Going on instinct and a hunch, I took a shot. It was a long shot, but at this point, I didn’t have anything to lose.

Moments later, I pulled my bug into Sacred Heart Church and cut the engine. Sacred Heart was a small quaint church with rows of pristine white pews and gorgeous stained-glass windows gracing the sidewalls, and Father Moody was the resident priest. I was catholic and I had actually been confirmed, I just never seemed to have time to go anymore. Granny always went, and my mother forced me to when she was in town, but willingly going on my own terrified me. I always felt like I was being judged somehow.

It was Friday afternoon. Church wasn’t in session, but it was always open for those needing a place to pray or someone to talk to or simply a safe haven. I walked through the doors and paused for a moment in the lobby. A nervous giggle slipped out when I realized I was waiting for a lightning bolt to strike me dead or the roof to collapse or something. I took a deep breath, knowing I was being silly.

Making my way inside, I glanced around. No one was there, but then I saw a solitary figure in the middle pew with his head bent in prayer. I crept forward and let out a sigh of relief when I recognized the man.

Brice Benedict.

Finally, something was going my way. I might not go to church very much, but I did know a thing about common decency and respect. I waited for him to finish whatever prayer he had been reciting and lift his head. Only then did I make my way to his pew and quietly slide onto the bench beside him.

He turned to look at me and jerked, seeming startled. “M-Miss Meadows, you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

Darn gossip mongers
, I thought.

The resident Mad Hatter church going ladies still thought I was the devil’s spawn just because I was psychic, though they loved my parents. Probably because they pitied them for having a fortune-teller like me as their only child, since they were such prominent, upstanding citizens. Needless to say my parents loved the attention. Me, not so much, especially coming from hypocrites like them who went to church all the time yet lived their daily lives in an unchristian like manner. It made me crazy, but I wasn’t here to dwell on that. I was here to get to the truth.

“You and me both, Mr. Benedict,” I replied honestly. “But trust me, I have enough sins of my own to confess.”

“Who says I’m confessing sins?” He pushed his glasses up his beak-like nose and squirmed in the pew.

“No one. I’m just assuming you’re in here because you have a lot on your mind.” I patted his hand. “Or you’re hiding out from the bad guys,” I added sympathetically.

“Maybe a little of both,” he admitted, looking too exhausted to keep up the charade. He also looked like he didn’t have a friend in the world, which was something I could relate to. Things were great now in the
friend
department, but not long ago I knew exactly how he felt. I could empathize, and something told me he could sense that.

“How did you get out of jail so quickly, if you don’t mind my asking?” I studied his face to gauge his reaction.

“I got out on bail,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, wow, I heard it was set pretty steep. You must have had a lot of money saved.” That would explain the expensive items in his office. Because the deal he had made with Peirce Theodore’s money had gone south, so there was no way he could have made money off of that. Which made me wonder again how he had such nice things. Maybe he had a rich relative who had left him some money.

As if reading my mind, he said, “I can see those wheels in your brain turning, Miss Meadows. You’re nothing if not thorough, I’ll give you that.” He smiled a smile of admiration, if I wasn’t mistaken. “I had an anonymous benefactor who posted my bail. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

“I’d rather not, but I’m pretty certain you’re not going to tell me who it was. Does it have something to do with the thugs from the shady deal you were involved in with Mr. Theodore’s money?” At his shocked expression, I explained, “I
am
dating Detective Stone, and I
am
a consultant to the Divinity Police Department. There’s not much about this case that I don’t already know.” I looked at him with genuine concern. For him. For Linda. For us all. “Are you afraid they will come after you now that Peirce is dead?”

“I plead the fifth, for your protection as well as my own, but I
will
say your powers of observation are uncanny.” And that was all I needed to hear to know the truth. The thugs were still after money, still out there, and still very much a threat to many people of Divinity. Whoever ran them obviously had Brice in their pocket. Poor man. I truly believed he was a good guy who had made a bad decision but now was stuck with no way out.

Then again, maybe there was a way. “If you would just talk to the police, I know they would help. They could put you someplace safe for your testimony, I promise.” I hoped he could hear the sincerity in my voice.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally responded. “I just don’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way. I really did like Peirce Theodore, and I would give anything to make things right for his widow.”

“Is that what you were doing with that tax guy and the bald man at the café the other day? Trying to make things right?”

He nodded. “I was talking to the IRS man—whose name is Drew Cummings—trying to find a way to help Linda save the inn. I know she lost her life-insurance policy, and I feel just awful about it. The man who was with us is a buyer—whose name I shall withhold as he wishes to remain anonymous for personal reasons until the deal is final. The important point is that he is interested in buying Divine Inspiration, even with the recent murder tainting its image. That’s hard to come by these days. I’m just trying to help her out any way I can.”

“Me too.” I thought of Peirce’s reading.

“I heard about the treasure map.” Brice’s comment had a funny tone to it.

I looked at him surprised, wondering if Raoulle’s prediction was about to come true. “You did? Gotta love small towns.”

“Yes, well, I’m not the only one who heard.” His face took on an anxious look. “Don’t be surprised if a lot of outsiders start showing up, wanting a piece of the action. Linda won’t be hurting for buyers then.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? That your buyer will be angry if she stalls the sale of the inn? Or that the thugs will show up and more murders will happen?”

“Like I said your powers of observation are uncanny.” He met my gaze, and I couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “I hope you’re prepared for the consequences of what you started.”

***

Saturday afternoon I still couldn’t stop thinking about what Brice had said. Was I prepared for the consequences of my actions? I’d had no idea when I set out to help Linda save the inn that we would find a treasure map and what that might mean for our conservative, old-fashioned town. I glanced around at the crowd who had shown up for the Fall Harvest Party in Mini Central Park. It was double the size we had expected.

Tons of outsiders had ascended upon the town, as predicted.

Granny and Fiona were in a tizzy, worrying about having enough food. While my mother’s face was puckered like a prune with disapproval. This party was supposed to be about her and helping with the predicament she was in, not about some silly treasure, as she had put it. At least the weather had held out, thank goodness, with the sun shining bright and the temperatures just warm enough to make the event pleasant. So far Morty was on his best behavior, but he was so unpredictable, no one ever knew what he had up his sleeve—or under his bowtie, as the case may be.

Crockpots of chili sat steaming on the table, with bowls of shredded cheese and sour cream nearby. Loaves of warm Italian bread were sliced in baskets with napkins over the tops, and several antipasto salads were ready to be dished. And of course the cake was the centerpiece, as it should be.

It was a masterpiece.

It was a replica of a courtroom with a man on trial. The pews of spectators were packed, the jury full, the judge front and center, and my mother standing tall and proud in action. The detail was amazing. Cake Lady, Wendy Statham, had done a fabulous job once again. At least she would get more business after being stuck in our town. And the music was perfect. Jason Shank the DJ seemed to know exactly what his audience wanted, not to mention he was funny and entertaining. He was already a huge success back in the city, but winning my mother over was truly an accomplishment that would book him plenty of additional gigs.

My mother took the microphone and cleared her throat. “I want to thank everyone who was involved in planning this party. The cake looks incredible, which doesn’t surprise me.” She glanced at Wendy. “Cake Masters has a fabulous reputation, and you can bet I will tell all of my friends about this.”

Wendy was a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She smiled and tipped her head in appreciation. Granny was a big fan and kept trying to get her to stay in Divinity so they could open a cake cookie shop together. I had to hand it to Wendy over being a good sport in putting up with the Dynamic Duo as well as my mother. The woman was a saint.

“And much to my shock, the music is surprisingly entertaining,” my mother went on with her usual back-handed compliments. “I will surely recommend your DJ services if any of my friends are ever in the need of a non-band or orchestra entertainer.”

Jason was about my age and looked to be used to tough customers. He bowed at the waist gallantly and then blew my mother a kiss. My mother blinked rapidly and flushed, Granny and Fiona giggled, and Jason shot them a wink.

Turning the focus off of him and her heated cheeks, my mother continued speaking. “Granny Gert and Fiona Atwater did a wonderful job with the food.”

Granny and Fiona curtsied and waved to the audience as they twittered about, fussing over the dishes.

“And, well, my daughter is here,” my mother continued. “And that’s something in and of itself.”

I smirked at her. She had no idea just how much I was doing in trying to save her from life behind bars. I waved at the audience and did a little twirl, not quite knowing what else to do. Jo and Zoe joined my side immediately, and I shot them grateful smiles.

“So please don’t worry about me, people. I will be just fine.” My mother smoothed her burgundy jacket over her matching skirt. “I hope everyone enjoys the food, and welcome to all the newcomers in Divinity. You picked a perfect time to visit our lovely town.”

Our
? I all but choked on the thought.

“Easy there.” Jo whacked me on the back. “You don’t want to give your mother anything else to frown about.”

“No kidding.” I took a deep breath. “Is it happy hour yet?”

“Not quite,” Zoe said. “But Ron Durkin and his fiancé are here, and they look pretty happy. Not exactly what I would expect from people who are guilty.”

“I know,” Jo responded. “They certainly don’t look like a couple set on vengeance. And I have to say the tent looks sound.”

“I’m telling you, I believe him when he says he doesn’t know how the tent at your reception got cut. I think someone’s looking for easy targets to blame,” I said.

“Don’t get too excited,” Zoe added. “I saw Theresa McFarland here. We still don’t know what she was up to at Jo’s reception.”

“True,” I chimed in. “We’ll have to keep an eye on her for sure. In the meantime, did you see how many out-of-towners are here?”

“Yeah, and it has me concerned.” Jo rubbed her stomach. “They’ve been swarming Linda Theodore all day like vultures. What do you think they want?”

“A piece of the action, I’m sure.” Zoe stared out at the crowd with wariness. “It’s kind of unnerving.”

“That’s the thing,” I said. “Linda and her crew and I searched for hours, but we didn’t find anything. Without that missing piece of the map, I’m not sure how we will ever find the treasure.”

“You haven’t been able to pull a single reading from the map?” Jo asked with a curious expression on her face. “I thought for sure you would.”

“Not yet,” I answered. “I’m thinking I would need something from the man who created the map in order to get a reading off of it. And since he’s been dead for a very long time, I doubt anyone around here has anything of his.”

“Well, keep trying, please,” Zoe said. “I know our original goal was to help Linda, and the mysteriousness of a long lost treasure will definitely pick up business for her, but I don’t think our town will be back to normal until that treasure is found. And I for one like my normal boring life.”

“I am so with you, sister,” Jo said. “I have about had it with drama.”

“I agree. I can’t promise anything, girls, but I will see what I can do.” I hugged them both and looked beyond them, focusing in on the scene before me with dread. “Oh, no.”

“What now?” Jo asked.

“Morty,” was all I had to say.

“Oh, my,” Zoe responded.

“Let’s go,” I ground out, and we all headed over to the cake table as quickly as we could. But it wasn’t quite quick enough.

My mother was just about to cut the cake when Morty appeared in front of her. I could see by his stance he was about to pounce. That little stinker was determined to terrorize my mother, no matter how much I scolded him to play nice in the sandbox. I had just about reached him when he looked over his shoulder at me, and if I didn’t know better, I would swear he gave me a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin.