Murder at Redwood Cove (17 page)

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upcake man? The one who made Tommy's special treat yesterday? “What happened?”

“Murdered.” Deputy Stanton rubbed his sprouting whiskers. “Shot twice. Found next to his van.”

“I can't believe it!” I pulled a stool over and sat with a thud.

“Do you know who did it?” Scott asked.

“No. We didn't find anything at the scene that gave us a lead. Maybe something will be discovered during the autopsy or from the evidence we collected.”

“Could it be connected with the abalone poaching or the attack on Tommy?” I asked.

“Highly unlikely, Ms. Jackson. There's a lot of drug trafficking in this area. Jason rented a room in a house near the airport. I think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe stumbled onto a load of marijuana going out.” A network of red blood vessels obliterated the whites of his eyes. He scrunched them closed. “They don't call it the Green Triangle for nothing.” Stanton opened his eyes and stretched his back. “Maybe heavier drugs coming in. There's more of that happening now.”

Helen bustled in carrying two breakfast baskets, with Tommy close behind. He ran to Fred's crate, knelt down, and let him out. Fred jumped into his arms, grinning from ear to ear. Every wag of his tail shouted,
Where have you been? I've missed you more than you know.
Bringing the joy only a dog could produce time after time in the same day. Tommy hugged him close.

“Good morning, Deputy Sheriff Stanton.” Helen placed the baskets on the counter and began to empty them.

“Same to you, Mrs. Rogers.”

As Helen unloaded the dishes into the sink, she glanced over at the deputy, studying his face. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah.” He stifled a yawn. “That'd be great. Thanks.”

Deputy Stanton and I looked at each other, then at Tommy. The unspoken agreement was clear. Don't say anything about the murder.

Helen pulled a mug from a hook under the dish cabinet. “You look exhausted. Have you had anything to eat?” She poured dark, steaming liquid into the cup.

He massaged his forehead. “Sometime last night I grabbed a burger.”

“A burger?” Helen stared, her eyebrows raised. “Last night?”

She turned, opened the refrigerator, took out a carton of eggs, and placed it on the counter. “I know I have some cremini mushrooms in here.” She put an oversized red bell pepper next to the eggs. “This'll be perfect.”

“Please, don't bother, Mrs. Rogers. I'll catch a bite later.”

Helen placed a bunch of green onions on the cutting board, the yellow organic label brightly displayed. “Deputy Stanton, you're helping Tommy and me. I want to do something for you in return.” She stopped moving and faced the officer. “And I'd feel more comfortable if you called me Helen.”

Deputy Stanton looked at her, then away to where Tommy and Fred were playing tug-of-war with a worn rope toy. “Thank you. I'm grateful.” He put his large hands around the warm mug. “And please call me Bill.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but now wasn't the time for Helen to find out there'd been a murder. Bob's death was still officially an accident. Jason's death wasn't. Jason's was the real deal.

Scott grabbed another muffin from the plate on the counter. “I'm going to go help with the tent.”

“I'll be in the study making a call.” I nodded at Scott, keeping my agreement with him about letting him know where I was going to be.

He touched the side of his head in a mock salute and flashed a grin.

As I walked down the hallway, questions flew through my mind. What if the deputy was wrong? What if Jason's death was connected? I was convinced Bob was murdered. That would make two murders and one attempted. Jason was off the list for the attack on Tommy because he'd been seen at work during that time, but he could've been involved with the poaching. He could've killed Bob. Or he could've found out something that got him shot.

Tommy was still at risk. I needed to find two people who could've been on the cliff when he was attacked. If there was a connection between the assault on Tommy and Jason's murder, who could've been at the headlands one night and at the place where Jason was killed the next? Phil and Andy provided alibis for each other Wednesday evening, but they could be covering for each other. Where were they last night? And I still didn't know about Charlie.

As soon as I closed the office door, I hurried to the phone and dialed Suzie's number.

“Ralston Hotel,” Suzie said in a subdued voice, her usual energy not there.

“Hi. It's Kelly.”

“Oh my gosh, did you hear?” Suzie asked. “Someone killed Jason.”

The phone lines must be melting.

“Deputy Stanton told me a few minutes ago.”

“I can't believe it. We have boxes of pastries he baked for the event today lining the counters.” She paused. “It's surreal. His creations are here, and he's gone.” Suzie took a deep breath. “He's never coming back.”

That word shot through me.

The finality of it. Someone I saw yesterday and would never see again. I didn't know Bob personally, but I talked to Jason recently. This death was someone in my life. “Did you know him very well?”

“He'd worked here part-time for about eight months. Sweet guy. I really liked him.”

“Do you have any idea why someone would kill him? Has he been in any arguments lately?”

“Not that I know of. He baked for us and occasionally helped with catering. He was thorough and conscientious.”

Dishes banged in the background. Life went on.

“Bob, Tommy, Jason,” Suzie said. “What's going on around here?”

“I thought maybe you'd have an idea because you've been here so long.”

“Not a clue.”

“Please let me know if you think of anything.”

“I will. And, Kelly, be careful. A couple of guys commented on the questions you've been asking.”

Warned twice in one morning. Not a good sign. “Thanks for your concern. See you at the festival.”

So Suzie didn't know anything, but she was definitely in the information loop. I walked back to the work area.

Helen was in full swing, chopping Italian parsley with vigor. The smell of sautéing onions and bell peppers filled the room. A slab of Parmesan and a grater waited on a counter nearby. Silverware and a napkin were in front of the officer.

“Mrs. Rogers…” Stanton paused. “Helen, I appreciate this.” He glanced in my direction. “But I know you have work to do.”

“Deputy Stanton, you're working to not only help us, but the community. I'm pleased we have an opportunity to give something to you. Helen's an excellent cook.” I smiled. “Her breakfast will give you energy to deal with the day.”

“Thanks.” The deputy fiddled with his fork and shifted in his chair.

Definitely out of his element. Uncomfortable at being the receiver of good intentions.

Daniel and Allie came in carrying armfuls of flowers.

“Decorations for the tent tables,” Daniel stated in answer to my questioning look.

“Where are the vases?” I asked.

Daniel pointed a toe at the cabinets under the counter behind the deputy. “Down there.”

“Let me help.” Deputy Stanton creaked out of his chair, leaned down, and opened the door. “How many do you need?”

“Five should do it,” Daniel said.

He handed the large vases up to me, one at a time.

“Thanks.” I placed them on the counter and filled each with water.

Allie and Daniel put the flowers on the counter and began arranging them in the containers.

“Daniel, the setup crew has a problem with one of the poles. I offered your help.”

“I'm on it.” He turned to his daughter, his long raven hair swinging over his shoulder. “Allie, you're talented at this. Are you okay finishing on your own?”

“You bet, Dad.” She beamed up at him, the blue-black locks falling down her back.

Some families resembled each other. Spitting image more closely described these two.

Daniel left and Allie finished arranging the remaining flowers.

“Mom, can we watch television in here?” Tommy asked.

“That's fine.” Helen looked at me. “I need to stay here for a while to take care of the dishes and get the afternoon baking started. I've picked up all of the baskets.”

Good. Tommy was covered. Nonverbal communication was at an all-time high today.

Tommy and Allie rushed over to the flat-screen television. She picked up the remote, and Tommy pulled out two large green beanbags from against the wall. They flopped down in them, and Fred squeezed in between the two of them, settling with a contented grunt.

Helen flipped one side of the omelet over her mixture of herbs, vegetables, and cheese and gently slid it out of the pan onto a warmed plate. She garnished it with some finely chopped tomato and dill sprigs. Placing it on a tray, she added a cup of fresh fruit, then put it in front of the deputy, along with a basket of thick-sliced homemade wheat bread.

Deputy Stanton shoveled a few forkfuls in like a starving trucker after a long haul on a barren stretch of road. He suddenly stopped, sheepishly glanced at us, then slowly filled his fork and took another bite.

He smiled at Helen. “I was hungrier than I thought, and you make an amazing breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Helen busied herself at the sink. “Glad I was able to help.”

“I'm going to the office to do some paperwork.” I headed back down the hallway.

I spent a couple of hours taking care of orders and invoices, pushing thoughts of Jason out of my mind. I stopped at eleven thirty. Time to see how the festival was going . . . and to think about who could've killed Jason.

The huge festival tent covered scores of tables filled with wine, chocolate goodies, and gifts for the silent auction. I saw Scott and headed in his direction. He waved, holding what appeared to be a cupcake.

“Is the pole taken care of?” I asked.

“Yes. And the tasting has begun.” He grinned.

A dark fudge-like frosting and some kind of cream filling surrounded by cake disappeared into his mouth.

I felt a tug on my sleeve.

“Miss Kelly, could I talk to you for a minute?” Tommy asked, his eyes wide.

“Sure.” I wondered what was up.

“I want to go somewhere private.” He was all serious in tone.

“Okay. Let's go to the far end where the roses are.”

Daniel observed us from a few feet away.

“Tommy and I are going to have a chat. I'll bring him back to you when we're done.”

“Got it,” Daniel said.

I looked at Scott. “We'll be at the end of the tents and will stay in sight.”

He nodded and his hand reached out for a chocolate truffle decorated with white chocolate stars. “I'll be here.”

Tommy and I walked to where the yellow fragrant flowers had attracted Mary when she was on her Silver Sentinel shift to watch the inn.

“I didn't tell you everything the other night.” Tears began to flow. “I know I can only have Fred here if he's good.” He squatted down and clutched the thick-necked dog.

I'd known there was more. “Tommy, what happened?”

“Miss Kelly, please don't make me get rid of Fred. Please,” he sobbed.

His nose needed a tissue.

“Please, I can't lose him,” he wailed. High-pitched. Heartbreaking. The tears were a river.

What on earth had the dog done?

“T
ommy, I know Fred's a good dog. You won't have to get rid of him.”

“Honest?” Tommy's eyes were hopeful, the beginning of a smile appeared. “But you don't know what he did yet.” The corners of his mouth drooped.

“Please tell me what happened.” I held my breath. Had the dog done something terrible? Had I just made a false promise?

“He . . . he . . . chased Mrs. Henderson's cat.” Fear controlled every inch of his body and contorted his face.

I exhaled. I wanted to laugh with relief.

My father's voice called to me from years ago.
“Erase your face. Show no emotion.”
Advice he'd given when I was handling my first difficult ranch guest. Laughing would devastate Tommy right now. I couldn't make light of something so serious to him.

“Did he injure the cat?”

“No. It got away.”

“Please tell me the whole story.”

Tommy stood. “I took Fred with me when I went to the post office for Mom after school on Wednesday.” He looked down and began making circles in the grass with the toe of his worn red sneaker.

“And?” I prompted.

“I let Fred off his leash in the field nearby so I could throw a ball for him.” The toe circled faster, wearing a groove in the grass. “I know I'm not supposed to. I promise I'll never do it again. Ever.” His eyes met mine.

“I believe you. Then what?”

“Mrs. Henderson's orange tabby cat jumped out of the grass under Fred's nose, and he started chasing it.” His eyes wandered to the tables under the large tent.

“And . . .” I prompted again.

He sighed. “He ran across Mrs. Smith's backyard. She was hanging up clothes to dry.” Tommy studied me warily, as if scared to add more wrongs to Fred's list of offenses. “He knocked over her laundry basket.”

“Was she upset?”

“I don't know. I didn't stop. I was running after Fred as fast as I could.” He looked at the dog. “We went back later and apologized. She said nothing got dirty and everything was okay.”

I pulled a clean tissue out of my pocket and handed it to him.

“What happened next?”

“Fred ran past the post office and across the street and squeezed under a fence. I opened a gate and followed him. The man who gave me the cupcake was loading stuff into his van.”

Jason. “What kind of stuff?”

“Big bags.” He shoved the tissue into his pocket. “I chased Fred to the other side of the yard, and he went under the fence again. I opened another gate and ran out. I found him sniffing around and put a leash on him. The cat had disappeared.”

“Did you see what was in the bags?”

“No, but I tripped on one. There were big, hard things in them. They felt like rocks.”

What could be described as big rocks that were being loaded into a van in large bags? Abalone.

“Did Jason, the man who gave you the cupcake, see you?”

“Probably. He had his back to me when I ran in, but the yard's pretty big, and Fred was baying by the time we got to the back of it.”

“Tommy, I think you learned a lot from this experience.” I touched him lightly on the shoulder. “You can keep Fred.”

Tommy jumped up and down, clapping his hands. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Fred jumped up and down, too, never one to miss a good time. Little did he know he'd just been spared.

“Thank you for telling me about Wednesday. Fred's a wonderful dog. He just didn't resist temptation that day.”

Daniel and Allie waved in the distance.

Allie came running up, a chocolate something in her hand. “Tommy, you have to try the chocolate mousse brownies. They are soo . . . good.” She rolled her eyes.

Daniel strolled up beside her. “She's right.” He looked at me. “The chefs in the area plan for months to come up with unusual chocolate delectables.”

Allie handed part of her brownie to Tommy.

“Thanks!” The chocolate disappeared in one bite.

Daniel turned to me. “He's staying with Allie and me until Helen can join us.”

“Miss Kelly, can I go now?”

“You bet. Have fun sampling.”

Tommy grinned, and the three of them walked off with Fred in tow. The kids stopped at the first table, and their hands darted out for chocolate cookies.

I walked through the tented area, passing numerous tables of wine and sweets, in search of Scott and thinking about what I'd learned. Jason. How could the man who made mothers want to pinch his cheeks be involved with poaching?

“Would you like to try some truffles?” A young woman wearing a black wool sweater patterned with several varieties of colorful flowers gestured toward her display of candy.

Startled out of my thoughts, I stopped.

A display of mini-truffles was before me.

“Please, help yourself.” Amy, her name tag read.

“Thanks.” I placed one in my mouth, letting it slowly melt. The intense chocolate was heaven. Scott stood a couple of tables away, next to a fountain of dripping chocolate, and I headed in his direction.

“Hi,” Scott said. “Have you tried any goodies yet?”

“Yes. The truffles are luscious. Scott, Tommy told me something—”

Just then, Andy came huffing up to us. “Suzie's table is almost out of pastries. She left a while ago to get some. Could one of you find out where she is?”

“Probably got pulled into some hotel business,” Scott said.

“I'll go.” Perfect. I could check out where Tommy had seen Jason. “It's only a couple of blocks away. I should be back in a heartbeat.”

Scott frowned but didn't say anything as I walked away.

Up one block, I turned left. Tommy said the fenced lot was across from the post office. I could walk through it, and I'd be only a short distance from Suzie's place.

The cool ocean breeze streamed through my hair as I strode down the wooden boardwalk. It was empty, and I walked fast.

Jason had been involved in the poaching operation. He smuggled them out in his catering van. The location Tommy had talked about was where the boy had seen Andy and Charlie on Thursday.

Could the three of them have been in it together? Andy and Charlie could've been the two who were there the night of Tommy's attack. But that would mean Phil was in on it, too. He gave Andy an alibi. And why kill Jason? My head was spinning.

And silver and gold. Where did that fit in? Charlie's car was silver, Andy's was gold, and Jason's was white. If the colors meant anything, that could put Charlie and Andy together, but Jason was the one with the abalone. It all didn't add up.

I spied the post office up the street on my right. There was only one fence that fit the location Tommy described. The wood was gray with age and beaten by the elements. I lifted the worn latch and let myself in. The lot was empty, except for rusty pieces of a sink tossed in one corner.

Tommy said Jason was putting the bags in the truck. Why was he loading the sacks here? Where had they come from?

I walked slowly toward the other side, scanning the ground, and found an area where the grass was flattened a bit. I bent down, searching carefully, hoping to find something. Nothing. Why didn't real life happen like on television? A convenient clue popping up would be nice.

I went to the far end and opened the gate that had eventually led to Tommy's reunion with Fred. Suzie's storage shed was two buildings down on the right. The door to it was closed. Charlie's truck was parked outside. He was a suspect. I broke into a run. Was Suzie alone with Charlie? Was she in danger?