Thrown Off: A Cozy Mystery (Brenna Battle Book 3) (14 page)

“Hmm.” Helen held up the ceramic blob. “It’s called ‘Ocean.’ My brother-in-law made it. He enjoys a little bit of fame as a local artist.”

“I like the blue,” I said. I decided to be patient, not to push, but to wait for her to see the wisdom in holding off for a couple of days.

“Alright, Brenna. I suppose the focus should really be on Independence Day and how Bonney Bay does the Fourth of July like no other town in America, right?”

“Thank you, Helen!” I would’ve hugged her if she was that type. Instead I shook her hand. “Have a great Fourth of July.”

“Enjoy your first one here.”

“I will. Look for me and my Battlers in the parade.”

“You’ll be in the parade? So will we. A group of librarians always participates. To promote our summer reading program.”

“Great. I’ll see you at the parade, then.”

What did librarians do in a parade? Just hold a sign, I guess. Maybe throw out free bookmarks. It didn’t matter. I was so relieved at my diplomatic victory, I felt like throwing myself a little parade. Except…it was a parade without Will. Would it be a Fourth of July without Will, too? And why was it that the thought of anything significant
without Will
had me feeling like I’d swallowed a bowl full of rocks?

23

I sat on the couch with my feet up on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn between my sister and me, trying to wind down after our last class of the evening. Thank God it was Friday, but we had a busy weekend of sleuthing planned. Blythe scrolled through the online streaming offerings, calling out our options. I shook my head at anything remotely involving love, romance, relationships. Finally we settled on an old
Shark Week
marathon.

I felt like I’d been living my own personal Shark Week lately. Before I could really settle into the show, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

“Hello,” I said.

“This is Jessie Pakowski, Holden and Allen’s mom.”

“Oh, hi, Jessie, Holden and Allen’s mom,” I repeated for Blythe’s benefit.

Blythe quickly hit
mute
. She slapped her forehead and mouthed, “Seriously?”

Right. That just sounded so intelligent. I un-muted the phone. “I mean, I’m glad you called.” Even though she sounded less than happy.

“You are?” Jessie said. “Why?”

“Oh. Well, we had some issues with the boys today. Did they tell you about that?”

As a matter of fact, we’d tried talking to them about cooperating so they could be part of the parade, but Allen had refused to do anything but sulk, and Holden had initially agreed, only to be totally disruptive. Both of them had spent most of the day messing around and annoying each other on the far end of the mat, while the rest of us used our last day of camp and judo practice before the parade to rehearse our routine. All that, in spite of the fact that Blythe had talked to Jessie about how the boys were “finding it challenging to follow the rules and fit in with the other kids,” as she so diplomatically put it, after the first practice. That little chat hadn’t seemed to do much good.

Jessie said, “Well, they told me you won’t let them be in the Fourth of July parade. How can you exclude two little boys like that? I mean, they’re new to the group and all they want to do is fit in and make friends, and—”

“They do?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blythe gesturing wildly and mouthing, “Give me the phone!”

“Of course they do!” Jessie said.

Could’ve fooled me. Those lying, manipulative little stinkers! Was that what they told their mother? And so much for Blythe’s diplomatic attempt to help Jessie understand her boys were sorely in need of discipline. She’d still managed to decide we were the bad guys. I guess that was to be expected from a parent who couldn’t seem to handle being the bad guy herself. A necessary part of the job, if you ask me.

“Jessie, I can tell you’re upset,” I said.

“I am beyond upset, young lady!”

Young lady?
Who the heck did she think she was? Who said that to a fellow adult? But I was a professional. A businesswoman, trying to build a positive reputation in this community. Jessie was still talking, but I spoke right over her. “I’m going to hand the phone to Blythe now. She’s very familiar with the situation with the boys.”

“Don’t you—don’t pass me off!” Jessie said.

But it was either that or blow a gasket. I handed the phone to my sister.

“Hi, Jessie,” she said. She listened for a moment, then said, “Actually, we’d love to have the boys join us in the parade, but they decided not to.”

“We would?” I mouthed.

“Well, why don’t you come by for a few minutes, without the boys, and we can tell you all about what we were working on for the parade today, and what happened with the boys.”

Blythe listened some more. “Well, that really would be ideal. I hope we can get them fully involved with the rest of the group.” Blythe nodded and said, “Mm-hmm. Yes, that will work just fine. We’ll see you then.”

She pressed
end
and handed my phone back to me. I tossed it on the table. “I can’t believe this. Of all the things to have to deal with right now.”

“I told her we could talk tomorrow evening. Around seven.”

“Great. What solution could we possibly find that will satisfy her and not ruin the Fourth of July for all the other kids?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Holden can stand off to one side and do his own crazy kicking routine.”

“Which would have nothing to do with judo.”

“And maybe Allen could hold a special sign.”

“And trip the other kids while he’s at it?”

“You’re right.” Blythe let out a deep breath. She looked defeated. “They’re just kids. It makes me sad.”

“You’re right; they’re just kids. That’s why the grown-ups have to be grown-ups and help them learn.”

“Maybe if we’d gotten them sooner, if we had more time to instill a little bit of self-control in them, they could be a part of the parade,” Blythe said.

“But it’s just not going to work,” I said more gently. “The good news is, the boys themselves gave us the perfect out. They
chose
not to participate. They
chose
not to practice. I say we hold them to that decision.”

“I guess it
is
a good life lesson.”

“It is, whether their mom thinks so or not. They didn’t practice with the group, and practice is required in order to participate. It’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Something gives me the feeling Jessie isn’t going to be easily reasoned with.”

“Probably not.”

24

I opened the bright red door of The Engine, and the bells above it jingled gently. It was Saturday, and it should’ve been a day for finally sleeping in and relaxing after a busy week chasing Battlers. Not to mention some downtime before what was sure to be an exhausting holiday tomorrow. But instead, Blythe and I were sleuthing. Carlos was sitting in the Bonney Bay Jail. He was scheduled to be arraigned on Monday. If he couldn’t make bail, he’d be transferred to County. He’d miss his interview. Not to mention, the arraignment was public, and once the media found out there was yet another murder in Bonney Bay, Dan Deering from Seattle Channel Three would be all over it.

Blythe and I had stopped by the store the evening before, after camp and before evening classes, but The Engine was already closed. One of us should’ve come during lunch, but the Pakowski brothers were having a very disruptive day, to say the least.

Inside The Engine, a cashier was busy wrapping a customer’s newly purchased caboose Christmas ornament. Raya, the young store clerk I’d talked to last time, was sorting cheap plastic train cars back into their appropriate bins. It looked like a bunch of preschoolers had just finished having a very good time playing with them. Marvin might be kind of an odd old guy, but that was smart of him, to provide that low table with an assortment of colorful, kid-safe toys for the little ones.

Raya looked up and saw Blythe and me.

“Hi, Raya,” I said, “Do you think we could talk for a minute?”

“You’re friends with that man! That killer! He took my Millie from me!” I hadn’t even seen Marvin in the little aisle behind Raya. He turned the corner on me with a fire in his eyes that scared the breath out of me.
 

I took a big step back. His face was way too close to mine. If he wasn’t grieving…but he
was
grieving; that’s why he was reacting this way. The poor man’s wife had been murdered. And someone had told him about Carlos’s arrest. Tony. Yes, I blamed Tony. Sure, the neighbors had probably seen the police at Carlos’s house, but they wouldn’t have known why he was being arrested. Or even necessarily, that he’d been arrested. He’d gone without a fuss, and the police had walked him to the car as discreetly as possible. How many people had Marvin told?

“Mr. Brown,” Blythe said in her soothing, sincere way, “we’re so sorry about what you’re going through. We knew Millie from the Cherry Bowl. She was always so kind.”

Marvin’s expression got a little less crazed.

“I’m so sorry about Millie,” I added.

He glared at me. “I heard about your snooping. Is that what you’re doing here? Snooping around to find someone else to blame for what your friend did?”

Wow. Was I really that transparent? I had to salvage the situation, or I wasn’t going to get anything out of these people. But I couldn’t lie to the guy. “I haven’t known Carlos very long. And I would never try to cover for him, even if I did. I just want to make sure we find the truth, so you can have justice for Millie and we can all feel safe in Bonney Bay.”

“Maybe you should just let the police handle it,” Raya said tentatively.

“We’re not trying to usurp the police. And we don’t want to upset any of you,” Blythe said.

I added, “We just thought, maybe, if there’s someone else who you think might have wanted to harm Millie—”

“Who would want to hurt Millie? Who?” Marvin was in my face again.

It was all I could do not to push him back.

The cashier heard his raised voice and rushed around the counter to him. She was older than Raya, mid-thirties, maybe. “Come on, Marvin, why don’t you and Raya go take a break in the back room?”

She had a gentle way about her, and he listened to her. He let Raya lead him away.

I exhaled a big breath.

“I’m sorry.” The cashier regarded us with concerned brown eyes. “Obviously, Marvin is grieving, but he’s really stressed about the financial situation, too. I just went over the books with him last night. Without Millie’s income, things are really tough right now. I’m Kathy, by the way. The Assistant Manager.”

She held out her hand and Blythe and I introduced ourselves.

“This is a terrible thing to ask,” Blythe said, “but what about insurance?”

“Millie had life insurance. I don’t know how much, but she was pretty smart about things like that. She would’ve taken care of it. She always was the one with the practical side. Marvin is the dreamer, you know? I guess you don’t open a shop like this without being a dreamer.”

“He must really love trains,” I said.

“Love?” Kathy laughed lightly. “I’d say he’s pretty much obsessed with trains. But that’s the way it is in that world. Millie went to a train enthusiast convention with him a few years back, and she told me how strange it was to see so many people just as train-crazy as Marvin.” She shrugged. “But she loved him, you know? It’s part of who Marvin is. She didn’t really understand it, but she helped him open this store. She helped make it happen.” A tear escaped her eye, and she sniffed. “That’s what you do when you really love someone. When you’re in it together for the long haul.”

“It’s just so sad,” Blythe said.

I patted Kathy’s shoulder. I tried to imagine what it would be like to support a spouse like that. I guess to some people, I was judo crazy. But Marvin’s train craziness—it just seemed different. It made me wonder if Marvin loved Millie as much as his trains. What an awful thing to think! Millie had probably been a much more gracious person than me. I mean, I couldn’t even seem to manage to stay on good terms with Will Riggins. Handsome, sincere, kind, dimpled Will Riggins.

Kathy cleared her throat and straightened her broad shoulders. She was a tall woman, just about six-foot, with angular features and a graceful way about her. “Anyway, Marvin’s been on the phone with the insurance company a lot. I think there’s just a bunch of red tape with a situation like this. Hopefully it will all work out fine, and hopefully Marvin and the business can hang on until then.”

“Is the shop really at risk of closing?” Blythe asked.

Kathy lowered her voice even further. “Yes, it is. And I don’t know what he’ll do if he loses the shop too.”

That got me thinking. “Is there anyone who would want this place to close?”

Kathy blinked, startled. “Well, there were always people who poked fun at Marvin. People who thought he was a little odd, who just thought trains went out with the eighteen-hundreds. But I don’t see why anyone would have wanted him to fail. I mean enough to kill Millie? The naysayers think it’ll fail on its own, I’m sure.”

“Who are the naysayers?” Maybe there was more to their mocking. Maybe there was some real animosity toward Marvin.

“Gunter Hatton, the barber. I guess he’s been the most vocal. I really don’t understand it. He’s usually such a nice guy, really outgoing and funny. But not typically a mean joker, you know? He makes fun of himself a lot, not others. Except for Marvin and this train store.”

“You mean the guy who works in the old-fashioned barber shop about a block down from Shaw’s?”

“Yep. It’s a Bonney Bay original. It dates back almost to the beginning, and Gunter’s been the owner for the past twenty years.”

“Huh. You’d think that cute little stores like Marvin’s would help attract and keep more tourists in town. Tourists who’d think it was cool to sit in an old-fashioned barber’s chair in a historic barber shop.”

“Right. You’d think so, but I guess people just don’t always make sense.”

The door jingled and a young couple came in with two little girls. “Hello, there!” Kathy called.

“We’ll let you get back to your customers,” said Blythe.