One Hot Murder (15 page)

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Authors: Lorraine Bartlett

Tags: #Cozy Mystery

BOOK: One Hot Murder
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“But—”

Katie held up a hand to stave off any more discussion. “I’m going back to my office. If you want to offer Ida any other assistance, I’m fine with that, too. But as far as I’m concerned, the discussion about her is over.”

Rose nodded, her pale blue eyes looking watery. After their discussion the previous day, Katie hadn’t thought Rose had much more tolerance for Ida than she had herself.

No sooner had Katie returned to her office than Detective Davenport showed up at her door.

“What happened with your former, now disgruntled, vendor? Collective bargaining fall through?” he said and laughed, although his expression held no mirth.

“We had a disagreement about taking and using other
people’s property without permission, among other things. I’d much rather talk about why you’re here.”

Davenport shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

“You’ve been hanging around McKinlay Mill quite a bit since the fire. Taking a more in-depth interest than usual, Detective?”

“I told you—this is my last case, Mrs. Bonner.”

“Why now?” Katie asked. While she’d suspected in the past that Davenport’s seeming lack of interest in his cases was due to being burned out or a short-timer’s attitude, she also knew that he had three daughters. Daughters in college—or about to go to college. That took money. “You still haven’t told me what you plan to do next.”

Davenport actually managed a wry smile. “A little of this, and a little of that. But I’ve only got four days to wrap this up, and the Taylor kid has gone to ground. His parents say they haven’t seen him since Sunday afternoon.”

Katie’s gut tightened. Could Blake have been the one to break into the Webster mansion and leave the food wrappers? He would have had to move on now that work had commenced on the house.

“I suppose you want to pick my brains because Andy Rust—Blake’s boss—is my boyfriend.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” he admitted.

She sighed. “Andy believes the boy is one hundred percent innocent.”

“And how about you?”

Katie hesitated. “I hope Andy’s right. He’s got a lot of faith in the kids he hires. I’d hate for his trust to be misplaced.”

“So he said.”

“Have you looked into the allegations that Dennis Wheeler bullied his students?”

“I’ve spoken with the school principal. It’s a possibility one of the kids took his revenge, but it’s not the only angle I’m looking at.”

And Katie would bet he wasn’t going to share that angle with her either.

He eyed her, his mouth twisting into a frown. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me about the fire or what’s happening on the Square?” he prodded.

“Only…” She sighed, resigned, and then told him about her walk through the Webster mansion with Nick and Don.

“Why didn’t someone report this?” he demanded angrily.

“I suggested they do just that, but I haven’t spoken with them since yesterday so I have no idea if they did. And who would make the connection anyway?”

“Crap. Whatever evidence was there is probably sitting in that Dumpster. I’ll head on over there right now.”

“If I hear of anything else, I’ll give you a call,” she promised.

“I’d appreciate it.” Davenport gave her a parting nod and hightailed it out of her office.

Feeling as though she’d just betrayed Andy, Katie sat down at her desk and wondered what to do next. She didn’t have time to ponder the question long because a knock at the door drew her attention.

“Got a minute?” Vance asked.

“For you? Always.”

Vance entered Katie’s tiny office and parked himself against her file cabinet. He crossed his arms over his golf shirt. That defensive posture didn’t bode for a happy conversation. “About Ida…”

Katie closed her eyes and hung her head, wondering how much it would hurt if she pounded it against the top of her desk. Probably no more than the throbbing headache Ida had already given her with her disruptive nonsense.

A warm hand touched her shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I know exactly how you feel.”

She looked up at him and could see he was trying not to laugh. It didn’t make her feel better. “Tell me how Ezra used to deal with her.”

“He let her do anything she damn well pleased, and maybe you should, too.”

“I’m not Ezra, and I can’t run Artisans Alley the way he did.”

“I realize that, but she’s a demented old lady. She’s got no life, she’s got no friends, and she’s got nowhere else to spend her time. Like it or not, we’re all she’s got.”

“I
don’t
like it.” She sighed. “I’m not a complete monster. I do feel sorry for the woman, but she obviously has a lot of problems—something we’re not in a position to deal with or correct.”

“That’s true,” Vance agreed with a nod.

Again Katie sighed. “What is it you want me to do? Take her back?”

“Eventually.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “And in the meantime?”

“I’ve got an EZ-UP tent in the back of my truck. She can sit under that so she doesn’t get heat stroke, and if we park it near the vendor entry, it’ll keep her from blocking the front entrance.”

Katie thought it over. It was a reasonable compromise—for now. “How long do we put up with this?”

Vance shrugged. “She’s stubborn. She may never give up.”

“Then maybe we’ll just have to find her another job. Somewhere she can
go
on a daily basis. Something she can
do
that will give her a sense of purpose—something more than just taping tags on sheets of paper.”

“Great idea. Are you willing to do it?”

“I have more important things to do with my time, but if I want her off my hands, it looks like I’ll have to do something.” She frowned. “I do feel sorry for her, but she’s really not my problem,” Katie reiterated.

“As long as she’s picketing outside of Artisans Alley, she’s
definitely
your problem,” Vance said.

Why did he have to be right
all
of the time? Perhaps that
was why she counted on him—for advice and for his friendship.

Katie nodded. “Okay. Put your little tent up. When you’re ready, I’ll help you take a table and chair out to her.”

He waved a hand aside. “I figured you’d say yes. I already set it up and took out the chair and table. She’s sitting there like the Queen of Hearts from
Alice in Wonderland
.”

“Lovely. I suppose next she’ll be advising people to come after me—off with my head!”

Vance stroked his beard thoughtfully. “She’s already doing that.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Swell.”

Katie found it hard to concentrate that afternoon. Her mind kept flitting to various subjects: Dennis, Blake, the upcoming potluck dinner, the demolition going on at the Webster mansion, and the menu for her dinner with Andy later that night. She made the latter her top priority, and wrote out a grocery list for later.

Too restless to work, she got up and made a circuit around Artisans Alley. Her vendors were right. You could go from blazing hot to searing cold walking the length of the long aisles of booths. The ducting for the air-conditioning had been concealed in some areas and was exposed in others. It had been a sloppy, inadequate job. She wondered who had done the initial work but hadn’t been able to find any of the paperwork in her files. Then again, she had tossed out a lot of the decades-old papers when she’d first taken over, before she knew what to save and what to keep. It didn’t matter in this case, she’d contacted a trusted firm with more than seventy years of experience. If she had the work done, she would go with them.

If she had the money to do the work, she would get it done in a heartbeat.

You could have the money
, the voice inside her harped.
She ignored it. Or tried to. Living in denial. Yes, that’s what she was doing—and quite well, too, she decided.

As she made her final round of the second floor, she neared the large storage closet where her late husband had lived illegally during their months of estrangement prior to his death. Ezra had called it Chad’s Pad. He’d called her on a number of occasions and asked her to come and claim Chad’s belongings, but she never had. And when she’d taken over Artisans Alley, she’d left everything as it was. If they pulled down the walls, they could make room for more vendor space, she decided. Since she currently had four empty booths, that could wait awhile—and for cooler weather in the fall. But since she expected to fill that vendor space before the holidays, she thought it might be a good idea to list that on her calendar for a day in September. She tried the door handle and, as expected, found the room locked. Good.

Katie trundled down the steep back stairs and made for her office, finding the mail had been delivered and someone had stacked it neatly on her desk. On top of the pile was a handwritten note with one word written on it: “Ida.”

Katie glanced at the clock. It was nearly four. She’d been a good sport about letting the woman demonstrate, but it was time for Ida to end her protest for the day. The problem was, Ida wasn’t going to listen to Katie. She needed an ally to convince the woman to go home. Was Vance still around?

Without even looking at the mail, Katie headed for the front of the store, where Rose was taking a break, reading one of her romance novels. “Rose?”

Rose held up a finger as her gaze dodged back and forth across the page. Then she grabbed her bookmark and slammed the book shut. “That rotten scoundrel,” she said and shook her head. “Of course all will be forgiven in a couple of chapters.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Katie said. She had no problem with
her cashier reading when there was nobody to wait on. Rose did, after all, put in more time at Artisans Alley than any other vendor. Well, except for Ida, but that was another—unhappy—story. “Is Vance around?”

Rose shook her head. “He had to leave for the day. He said he’d see you either tomorrow or Thursday. He’s not scheduled to work again until then. Is there a problem?”

“Yes, it’s Ida. I’d like her out of here and Vance’s little tent down before we close tonight.”

“That could be a problem. I’m not sure I know how to take down an EZ-UP.”

“Me either. I’d hate for it to blow over and get ruined or for one of us to break it.”

“Are you sure Vance didn’t think about it before he left?”

“I don’t know. I found a note on my desk that just said ‘Ida.’ I assumed she was still out there.”

“You’d better go out and look.”

Katie frowned, and headed out the door. Sure enough, the EZ-UP was gone, and so was Ida. But where she’d sat was covered in trash. Empty coffee cups, candy, and fast-food wrappers. It looked like Ida had also taken her petty ire out on a few of the begonias that were planted in front of the shrubbery.

Frustrated, and with growing anger, Katie picked up the mess and threw it away. She watered the flowers, but had little hope they’d revive. And what was she going to do if Ida showed up in the morning? Threaten to have her evicted by the Sheriff’s Office? She might be able to level charges of trespassing and malicious mischief, but that might only incite Ida to attempt more petty revenge. Perhaps Vance was right. She needed to find Ida something else to do with her time.

But what?

Eleven

Although the local grocery store was fine for most of what you’d want to fill your larder on any given day, their seafood department was hardly impressive. Katie didn’t want to buy frozen scallops for the dinner she planned for Andy, so after closing Artisans Alley for the day, she drove to the neighboring town of Greece and hit their biggest and best store. Since she was already there, she decided to do her shopping for the week, and spent far more than she usually would. Maybe it was better to stick to her home grocery store after all.

When she’d been married to Chad, Katie had been too busy working and going to grad school to care about cooking, but she found she enjoyed making dinner for Andy, who seemed to appreciate the effort she put into the meals they shared. On the other hand, maybe he was as sick of eating pizza and calzones as she was and just didn’t want to offend her.

Upon her return home, the cats greeted her with tales of
starvation and she fed them before she began preparing her own meal. Mason was particularly fond of seafood, and would bother her to no end if she didn’t make sure he was already satisfied before she took out the scallops to get them ready for the oven.

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