Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery) (13 page)

BOOK: Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery)
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I can’t run a hardware store, raise my children, deal with Donna, and be mayor. Something’s got to give.”

He did look like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I reached out to put a hand on his arm.
“I can help more with the children, and let me talk to Donna. I’m going to Crandall this morning—I’m a bit worried about my friend Carolyn Grimes—but I’ll go see Donna before I leave town. Is she at the B&B?”


Of course. Where else?” He put his hand over mine, but it was a gesture of brotherly affection. “Thanks, Kate. If nothing else, thanks for listening. I don’t know what you can do, but I appreciate your trying.”


Just don’t do anything in haste,” I begged.

He gave me a wry smile as he stood up.
“I won’t. You know that. I’m mostly talk.”

My eyes followed him as he left. Tom was a good-looking, kind man, and if he and Donna ever split, there
’d be no shortage of women setting their caps for him. He was tall, masculine in the right way, with slightly irregular features, enough so he didn’t look too good to be true. And basically, when he wasn’t stressed over Donna, he had a much happier disposition than Rick was endowed with. But, no, that would seem like incest to me.

I told Marj I was leaving for the day. If she
’d stay late—say four or so—I’d be back to take over. And then I headed for the B&B. I knew I was putting a lot off on Marj these days and vowed to give her a much-deserved raise and the title of general manager.

In the car, I talked to Gram.
“Tell me this is going to be all right, Gram, that I can talk some sense into Donna, that she’ll stop making Tom’s life miserable.” I wanted badly for Gram to say, “Oh, child, have faith. It will all work out as it’s meant to.” Instead she was silent, if she even heard me. Our communication was strictly on Gram’s terms, but I wondered if her silence didn’t mean she couldn’t give me the reassurance I wanted.

Once again, I rang the doorbell. Donna greeted me with surprise.
“Oh! I was hoping you were a paying guest.” She was dressed for the warm April day we were expecting—pale beige pants with a white sleeveless top, and a beige sweater fashionably tied over her shoulders. Her arms were toned and shapely, and I mentally cursed the fact that I did yoga or something every day, plus I got a lot of exercise at the café, and I’d never be in as good shape as Donna, who rarely lifted a finger, even to clean her own house, let alone exercise.
Tom Bryson better think again about that wrong Chambers girl business.


Want me to buy a cup of coffee?”

She laughed.
“Silly. Come on back in the kitchen. I’m having a planning session…”

My heart dropped. What if Sara Jo was there?

“…all by myself. I’ll welcome your company.”

Sunshine streamed into t
he bright and cheerful kitchen, which had windows on three sides like you find in so many older homes. I pulled a stool up to the island where she was working, and asked, “Sara Jo still upstairs?”


No, she was gone when I got here.”


You worried she’s disappeared again?”

Donna laughed as though I were being silly.
“No, her clothes are here, even that notebook thing she carries around all the time. I usually check in the mornings.”

I
gathered my courage and took the direct approach. “Tom tells me you think you should stay here.”

She backed off a bit, visibly and verbally.
“Well, it’s an idea. Tom didn’t like it.”


No, he didn’t. Donna, why would you even think that? I’m glad you got the B&B because I know it’s your dream, but your husband and children should always come first.”


I want to build my business.” With determination, she slammed shut the notebook she’d been using in her planning, whatever that meant.

I think she knew she had a weak case at best.
“Donna, have you totaled up the number of paying guests you’ve had? Don’t count Sara Jo, because she’s an unusual case”—I thought that was putting it mildly. “Not many guests will come for long stays. If you get some for a week this summer, you’ll be doing well.”


No, I haven’t counted.” She gazed out the window, perhaps hoping I’d disappear while she was looking the other way.

She hadn
’t counted! Who was keeping the records? Good question, Kate.
“Donna, who keeps the books for you?”


Well, of course I do. I wouldn’t let Tom look at them because he’d immediately say he told me I wouldn’t make a profit. I’m covering my expenses, I think.”

She thinks? She doesn
’t know? She might be covering her daily expenses, but I bet she hadn’t thought about the cost of remodeling and equipping the kitchen and furnishing the house. I suppose she can write that off—all she did was blow through her inheritance, including most of what she got from me for her half of the house and the café.
“Uh, Don, I can’t do it this morning, but I want to look at your books. I won’t say I told you so, but I am used to running a business, and I might give you some pointers.”
I’ll have to bite my tongue to keep from insulting her when I see those books, but I can set up a good bookkeeping system for her.


Okay.” She was reluctant. “Why not this morning? There’s not much to it.”

I bet!
“I’m going to Crandall to have lunch with Carolyn Grimes. I’m worried about her. How about tomorrow? Can you bring the books and your laptop to the café?”


I suppose, but I don’t want Marj and everyone to know my business.”


They won’t. I’ll be sure we have privacy. And, Donna, back off the idea of moving over here.”

She
avoided looking at me. “You know, Tom and I…well, we haven’t been getting along very well anyway. I just thought a little separation would do us good.”


What about the children? You can’t bring them over here…there’s not room.”

She
looked away and bit her lip, and I thought for a moment she looked sad. “They like Tom better anyway. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

I left, in fact I nearly ran out the door. Carolyn and her
“dread in the bones” would be a welcome relief from Donna and her crazy in the head. Promising over my shoulder to call tomorrow morning, I jumped in my car. As I drove away, I was puzzling over her lack of maternal instincts. We’d been raised the same way, and yet we were so different. What had made her so self-centered that she ignored her own children? If those children were mine…no, I wasn’t going there.

The drive to Crandall was indeed relaxing after my tense morning. Spring had come to Texas, and the pale green of early spring had given way to deeper shades.
In another month green pastures would be lush, if we got some sorely needed rain to break our drought. Trees were not quite in full leaf, but the sun was warm. In fact by afternoon I’d want the a/c on in my car. For now, I left the windows down and let the warm air blow through the car. You can’t mess up already messy curls, and some days I purely longed for a convertible. But, then, not many café owners drove a Lexus, so I told myself to be content with what I had. In fact, the Lexus payments were stretching my budget since I tried to live on my monthly income and not touch what was left of the principal of my money from Gram.
Wonder if Donna ever thought about such a philosophy?

Chester
Grimes did it to me again—he stopped me, siren screaming, about two miles outside Crandall. No matter if you know it’s a friend, it’s always a heart-stopping moment to be pulled over to the side of the road by an officer of the law.


Couldn’t you have waited until I got to your house to talk? Did you have to pull me over and scare me half to death?” I was laughing as I asked that, but Chester wasn’t as cheerful as usual and his solemn face stopped my laughter.


Wanted to talk to you before you get to the house. I’m worried about my Carolyn. She just isn’t herself lately. I’m afraid she’s got the cancer or some other awful thing she’s not tellin’ me. I’m gonna eat with the boys at the local café. Know it won’t be as good as what you get, and the company won’t be as good either, but I want you and Carolyn to have a little girl talk. You don’t need me around. But you might text me later tonight. She’d hear a phone call, but she won’t see the text.”

I agreed and, waving goodbye to him, went on into town, my eye on the speedometer. After all, he was the speeding ticket cop.

Carolyn seemed as cheerful as ever to me when I got to her house. Wearing turquoise Capri pants and a matching flowered T-shirt with outrageous turquoise sandals and the same color on her toenails, she threw her arms around me and exclaimed, “Oh, I am so glad to see you. You’re just what I need.”

Her house was as cheerfully cluttered as always, but she cleared a space for us at the kitchen table.

“Don’t know what’s got into Chester, but he isn’t coming home for lunch. I’ve got meat loaf sandwiches, his favorite, and he knows it, but he said he’s eating with the boys.” She rolled her eyes to express her exasperation. “I guess he thinks we should have some girl time.”

I tried to distract her by saying that
meat loaf sandwiches were my favorite. No need to tell her I ate them all the time at my own café. Everyone’s meat loaf was different, and I was sure hers would be excellent. It was—ground venison, with a characteristically strong taste but not gamey. The sandwiches were on good whole-grain bread, and she offered mustard and mayo, but I chose mayo.

As we sat down,
Carolyn pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, but I said, “No wine today. I can’t take a nap before I head home. I’d rather visit with you than nap anyway.”


What’s going on in Wheeler? How’s that cute police chief? And what about the B&B? I swear, you got more going on in that town than happens in Crandall in a year.” I laid out the whole Sara Jo story, which made her indignant. “Don’t know where some people get off thinking they can just stick their noses into other people’s business!”

Carolyn knew Donna—or mostly about Donna—from me and from the occasional tr
ips she and Chester made to Wheeler, so of course I let loose on all the craziness my sister had created lately. Carolyn was distracting me from talking about her, the reason I’d come, by talking about me.


Okay, enough,” I said, pushing away my empty plate. “How are you? What’s going on, and what is this about a dread in your bones. Here,” I reached in my bag and pulled out the lesson plans from the last cooking class, “I brought you the instructions for the lesson you missed.”

She tried to wave away the thought by clearing the table
“Oh, piffle. That was silliness on my part.”


If it was enough to keep you from cooking class, it’s real. Tell all. Now.”


Oh, I tell you it’s nothing. It’s just I’m worried about Chester. I got this strange feeling that something bad’s going to happen to him.” She turned to look at me, her hands now clasped tightly together. When she spoke again, her voice broke a little. “Now I know that’s silly. I don’t believe in ESP or whatever that is. We have no way of knowing, but it’s just a feeling I can’t shake. And I sure don’t want to tell him.”

I bit my lip.
“He’s worried about you. The two of you seem to have a mutual worry society going on, but neither of you is talking to the other about it. Don’t you think it’s about time you told him what’s bothering you.”


Me ask Chester to be careful?” She laughed for the first time. “You know how he’d react to that? He’d ask me what there was to be careful of in Crandall.”


Well, can you at least tell him it’s him you’re worried about and not that you have some dread fatal disease?”


That’s what that foolish man thinks? That’s why he’s been moping around here for days?” Her laughter rang out. Then she sobered, the smile leaving her face. “And he cares, doesn’t he? He really does.” Her eyes searched my face.


Of course he does, Carolyn. He’s worried to death. I think the two of you better sit down over wine and beer and have a good talk. Your dread in the bones may go away too. Nothing cures a dread in the bones like a glass of wine and a heart-to-heart talk. And then the two of you have to come to Wheeler—I’ll fix dinner. No café meal for you!”

She grinned slyly.
“Will you invite that cute Rick Samuels?”


If he promises to behave.” I laughed.

I left in good spirits, feeling there was nothing really wrong with either of them and thinking I
’d been a bit of a help to two good friends. Rick called when I was driving home, but I ignored the phone. After all, he was the one who preached against talking and driving.

When I got back to Wheeler and the café, all seemed relatively calm and peaceful. Well, that means Donna was calm. She came by to pick up pot roast for her family and mentioned Sara Jo
was still gone.


You going to spend the night at the B&B?” I asked as casually as I could.

BOOK: Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery)
2.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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