A Dash of Murder (9 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

After the fire, my dad left Zach with me and was going to look up Fitzpatrick’s address from that phone number I had given him. I assured him that I was fine, just a little shaken up. I put Zach to bed and st
arted stirring up cookie dough.

The next day, although bleary-eyed and grumpy, I helped Zach get ready for school. Zach gave me a hug that lasted just a little too long as he climbed out of the car. I think seeing his mom being dragged out of a fire the night before had scared him. He had already lost one parent, and the prospect of losing another was just about as earth-shaking as it gets for a little guy. He had been so tired last night that he fell asleep in the car on the way home. This morning, his mood was quiet as he sat at the table eating his cereal. The silence between us made me aware that I needed to be careful no
t to scare him like that again.

I, too, had eaten breakfast with only one parent for many years. My mom, while driving home from a PTA meeting one evening, was hit head-on by a drunk driver. Life for me and my dad was never the same after that. I was only eight, but I became overly protective of my remaining parent. Every time he would go to work, I was worried he would get shot. I even asked him to switch jobs to something bullet-free, like a salesman or a barber. He knew I was scared and would comfort me with the low crime statistics of Pecan Bayou. He told me that he was still w
aiting to use his first bullet.

My mother had been wonderful, and after she was gone there was a big hole in my life. That was where my Aunt Maggie stepped in. She had been thirteen years old when my father was born, so he kind of treated her like his aunt, as well. Aunt Maggie was there to make my Halloween costumes and prom dresses. She was also there to help me through all the clumsy years of growing into a woman.

After Danny was born, my aunt and uncle were advised by the doctors not to have any more children. Now we know the chances of having two children with Down Syndrome are almost nonexistent, but she and Uncle Jeeter heeded the warning. So Aunt Maggie and I found each other. I had a mother I wasn’t supposed to have, and she had the little girl she hadn’t been allowed to have. My father almost never complained about her presence, except for the time she forbade me to ride in the patrol car when he arrested people. Growing up a cop’s daughter introduced me to a world other children only saw on television. I knew I was a little different when I announced to my third-grade teacher that I was putting an APB out when the
class hamster went missing.

Now I was presented with another mystery. This time I might be able to find out where Barry was, and on top of that, I might be able to help Maggie. Breaking into Canfield’s office gleaned more information than I had dreamed of. I tried remembering the names on the credit cards. Maybe I could try to contact some of these ladies and find out why they had given their credit cards to him. It was especially intriguing that all the cards belonged to women. Some men might have only women for friends, but Canfield didn’t strike me as the type. I didn’t even find him physically attractive. In his forties, he did have a decent head of black hair, but he had a round face with a barrel chest and always seemed to be mopping his brow with a handkerchi
ef. Not exactly a chick magnet.

If I could ever get Maureen Boyle to quit condemning me and my family, I was sure she could provide some answers. She had to have been out at that hospital because
of some connection to Canfield.

I decided to deliver my four dozen cookies personally to Benny at
the barbecue. I pulled up, notic
ing a couple of foolhardy tourists sitting and sweating in the rocking chairs. Perhaps they were enjoying the Texas heat before returning to colder climates. Benny was stacking plates in a dishpan when I entered, juggling my
cookies in plastic containers.

“Let me get those for you,” he said as he put a plate in the stack and then came over
to grab a couple of containers.

“My son informed me that he bragged about my cookie baking at the meeting and that I was to
deliver them today.”

Benny laughed. “Yes, I do recall hearing something about your ability in the kitchen. We are so grateful to have them, Betsy.” He opened up a plastic lid and sampled one. “Say, these are good. If you ever decide to give up writing and want a job in my kitchen, I think we could work something out.” He smiled as he chewed a pe
ppermint chocolate chip cookie.

“I’m glad you stopped by.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what that boy said to Zach at
the meeting. How is he doing?”

“He’s all right, I guess. You know, he stil
l thinks Barry will come back.”

“Ah, yes. Hope springs eternal when you’re that age. It’s hard to learn that sometimes things just aren’t going to go your way, no matter how angry or how disgusted you may get.” I wondered if we were still talking about Zachary. He continued. “I suppose you heard that I would like to put Zach together with the new b
oy, Tyler, as a camping buddy.”

“I heard. Are you sure that’s such
a good idea?”

“I know, I know, but sometimes the best way to get two kids to get along is to make them work as a team. They’ll have to sort out their differences just trying
to get that tent up together.”

I thought it was a terrific experience for the other kid but not so much for mine. Benny crossed his arms over his w
hite barbecue apron and waited.

I relented. “If you think it will work, I guess so. But do me a favor
and keep an eye on them, okay?”

“Sure,” he said. I trusted him and knew he would take care of
Zach. Hopefully he trusted me.

“Hey, I was just kind
of wondering about something.”

“Shoot.”

Funny he should use that word, I thought. “I saw the contract you had with Oliver Canfield. That was what you were talking about when I asked you about the picture over there.” I looked again to the picture, this time recognizing Oliver Canfield as he held a giant pair of scissors to cut a piece of red
ribbon placed across the door.

Benny’s face straightened. He scratched his ear. “He came up with this idea to refinance the restaurant after the last hurricane blew through. The winds took off the front facade of the building, and we were afraid we were going to have to close down. Seems like back then they were handing out mortgage deals like free toasters at the bank. When the rate adjusted to a higher payment, it was much more than what we were ready for in the monthly budget. That was why I asked you to help think of ways to cut costs and save money. I’m running awful close every month, and now with the new baby, Canfield shows up again. This time he tells me that, for a percentage of the business, he would be glad to help out a friend. A friend, he says.
He wasn’t any friend of mine.”

He picked up a plate and started cleaning tables again. “Mr. Canfield was a sly one. I can’t say that I a
m too upset about his passing.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I worked my tail off here trying to make this a good restaurant and a way to support my family. I get up early and work till late. I can see the fruits of my labor every day. Canfield saw the fruits of my labor, too, and did all he co
uld do to take them off of me.”

“I’m beginning to think Canfield had a scam going with lots of people, Benny. You were just the one whose c
ontract was found on his body.”

Benny sat down in a booth suddenly looking very tired. “I didn’t know what to do. I put him off for a while, but he just kept calling. When Benny Jr. broke his foot and it looked as if they were going to have to do surgery, I just knew I had to do something. Affording health insurance when you’re self-employed is next to impossible. He brought ou
t a contract, and I signed it.”

It became quiet for a moment as the man contemplated his deal with the devil. Canfield had been Benny’s own personal hurricane. He swooped in, damaged everything in sight and left Benny to clean up the mess. Benny sighed and looked up at me. I wondered if he was desperate enough to kill because
of what had happened to him.

The bell on the res
taurant door jingled behind us.

“Dr. Mac!” Benny said, rising and walking towards the counter. “I have your order of brisket ready for the Hal
loween party at the hospital. “

This was just the person I had wanted to see. I had hopes of convincing him to let us have the paranormal investigation. He thought I was there picking up an or
der of my own and stepped back.

“I’ll w
ait until you help Betsy here.”

“No,” I said. “I wasn’t in line. Dr. Mac, I
’m really glad I ran into you.”

He scratched his chin and furrowed his b
row. “Trouble with Zach’s arm?”

“No, he’s
fine. Thank you for asking.”

A look of
recognition came into his eyes. “Would this have something to do with all the hubbu
b at the town council meeting?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “We are
hoping you will agree to let
us do the investigation out at the old
hospital.”

“So sad abo
ut the man who died out there.”

“The man who died out there was a crook, Dr. Mac. Did you kno
w that about him?” Benny asked.

Dr. MacPhee was surprised by Benny’s statement. “Really? I hadn’t heard anything about the man’s character
.”

“He was fixin’ to take a pretty good chunk of my profit every month. Now I’m thinking it might have been c
heaper to file for bankruptcy.”

“But I have to ask you Benny, now that you don’t have Canfield making up the part of the payment you couldn’t pay, how are
you going to pay it?” I asked.

“I’m going to keep cooking and selling the best barbecue in Pecan
Bayou. Isn’t that right, Doc?”

“And
if that isn’t enough?” I asked.

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess that’s where faith comes in. Even though I may be listing out to sea, it’s still better
than being circled by a shark.”

I had to agree. Dr. Mac peeled off some bills for Ben
ny and started toward the door.

“Um, Dr. Mac, could I speak
with you for just one moment?”

“Well, certainly my dear, if you don’t mind walking me out to my car. I have a lot of hu
ngry people to feed,” he joked.

His voice was gentle, the same voice I remembered so many years ago, getting me through the toughest time in my life. He had been so supportive in the operating room. He made me feel as if I didn’t need Barry to be my labor coach at all. It was just him and me – the screaming one
who kept asking for more drugs.

“I know I’m repeating myself. But by l
etting us do this investigation, it
would mean so much to my au
nt.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yes, you saw how upset she was getting at the meeting? Those things Miss Boyle
said were not in any way true.”

“I had a feeling about that,” he said as he tucked the boxes of barbecue securely in the back seat of his Lincoln Town C
ar.

I wasn’t sure of what Dr. Mac would think of Aunt Maggie’s attitude toward the paranormal. “You see, my uncle died a few ye
ars back, and she just feels …”

“That if she can find some spirits in the old hospital, that her own husband might be … reachab
le?”

He patted my arm gently. “This is common, my dear. In my profession, I often deal with people feeling a great loss for their loved ones. They will do anything to get them back, it seems. If truth be told, I would do anything short of voodoo to get them back for them, but som
etimes it’s just not possible.”

“Well, then maybe you do understand why we really want this investigation to proceed.”

“I do,” he said.

“That’s great.” I felt relief surging through me. He didn’t think my aunt and her friends we
re all a bunch of crackpots.

“But I also feel it’s my responsibility to listen to what Miss Boyle has to say about the negative influence ai
ring this program may promote.”

And like any reasonable judge, he was willi
ng to hear both sides. Darn it.

I continued. “This program is harmless. Honestly, I can’t say that I’m totally sold on the whole ghost hunt
ing thing, but Aunt Maggie is.”

His blue eyes twinkled, “You see, my dear, being on the town council is quite a job. Above everything, I have to be fair and make the right decision. I’m really glad you spoke to me about this today. This gives me some more insight into the situation. The best I can tell you is, now fully informed, I will give this some thought befo
re the meeting this afternoon.”

“Thanks, Dr. Mac.” I knew he would think out the situation squarely and make the right decision.