Cast Iron Conviction (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 2) (13 page)

Chapter 17: Annie

“A
re you going to be watching them on their date the entire time we’re here?” Timothy asked me ten minutes after we were seated. “If you are, we might as well get one big table after all.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, turning my attention back to him. “Pat hasn’t gone out on a real date since Molly dumped him for the dozenth time last year. I’m so proud of him for going out with Jenna.”

“She looks especially good tonight, doesn’t she?” Timothy asked.

I turned abruptly toward him and found that he was grinning broadly at me. “What’s so funny?”

“If you can watch them, then so can I,” he said. “But honestly, I’d rather be watching you.”

“Point taken,” I said. Not very many people could get away with something like that, but Timothy knew just when to push me and exactly how much was needed. It would be a good trait to possess if it worked out between us. “Do me a favor and switch chairs with me.”

“Is there a draft or something?” he asked.

“No, but if I’m sitting where you are, I won’t be as tempted to keep peeking at my brother.”

“That I can heartily endorse, then,” he said as he rose and got my chair. I hadn’t realized what a consummate gentleman Timothy was, a very nice change of pace from many of the men I’d dated in the past. Not that I’d dated that many in the first place. It was a decent amount, but not excessive; at least that’s what I liked to tell myself.

“Better?” he asked once we were both settled in.

“Much,” I answered. “So, enough about me and my family. What’s been going on with you lately?”

“Business is fine, but what I really live for is the forest. Did I tell you that I’m building a cabin of my own in the woods?”

“No. Really? Where?”

“As a matter of fact, we’re going to be neighbors,” he said with a smile. “The Logan parcel was up for sale, and I bought it.”

“We’re at least half a mile away from each other,” I said. “You won’t exactly be living in my backyard.”

“I didn’t buy the land because of you,” Timothy said and then quickly added, “Well, that wasn’t the only reason.”

I must have looked a little alarmed by his statement, because he immediately said, “Easy, Annie. I was just kidding. It’s good land, as you know.”

“I would have bought it myself if I could have afforded it,” I said, which was true. As far as I was concerned, I couldn’t own enough land. The more woods I had around me, the happier I would be. It wasn’t that I was antisocial or anything; I just liked the way it felt to have room enough to sneeze without having someone nearby say bless you.

“I’m already drawing up plans for my cabin,” Timothy said, his enthusiasm for the project shining through. “Do you mind if I show them to you when they’re ready and get your opinion on a few things?”

“I don’t know. I’m not an architect.”

“No, you’re something even better,” he said. “You actually live in a cabin like I’m planning to build.”

“I’d be happy to give you any advice that I can.”

“Wonderful. I’m holding you to that.” Timothy looked at me for a few more moments before he spoke again. “I’ve been waiting for this for a very long time. I was afraid that I’d be nervous, but I’m really having a good time.”

“Am I really that scary?” I asked him with a grin.

“You are an accomplished and intimidating woman,” he answered.

“Seriously? I’m a glorified fry cook. What’s intimidating about that?”

“You and Pat started a store and grill from nothing, and now you run the most popular place in Maple Crest. Added to that is the fact that you live off by yourself in a dream cabin in the woods without fear. I’d say that’s pretty amazing in and of itself.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds better than it actually is.”

“I beg to differ. I forgot to add one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re about as pretty as one woman should be allowed to be,” he said happily.

“I’m not one to talk myself down, but we both know that Jenna Lance is prettier.”

“Let’s agree to disagree about that,” Timothy said, and then he reached across the table and took my hand in his. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Are you kidding? I’m having a wonderful time. Thank you for finally asking.”

He chuckled softly. “The next time I won’t wait quite so long. Do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m busy.” I hated to say it, but Pat and I really did have to help Kathleen and start digging into the murders in earnest.

“Is it another guy?” he asked, pulling his hand slowly away from mine.

I captured it before he could retract it completely. “Pat and I are looking into what happened to Albert Yeats.” I decided not to mention that we were also digging into Mitchell Wells’s murder as well.

“I understand that completely. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, but if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“It’s a deal. One thing, then. Once this is all wrapped up, I want to take you out again.”

“I’d like that,” I said, “on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Be careful about agreeing before you hear what it is,” I said with a laugh.

“I’m willing to take the risk. What’s your condition?”

“I cook something for us at the cabin, and we eat out by the lake.”

“Now I can’t wait for you to solve the crime. If it weren’t a lie, I’d confess myself.”

“There’s no need for that. We’ll find the killer on our own.”

“I have faith in you,” Timothy said.

Our dinner was delicious, and we were back at my cabin before I realized it. The time flew past, and when Timothy walked me to my front door, I was ready to give him a goodnight kiss worthy of the effort he’d put into our date.

It somehow even exceeded it. Why had I been ignoring this man before? He’d been right in front of me, but I’d been too blinded by his niceness to realize that there was real potential for something special with him. That kiss nearly curled my toes, and as I watched his headlights recede down my driveway, I found myself hoping for a quick solution to our investigations as well.

A second date with Timothy was something that I very much wanted to happen, and the sooner the better, as far as I was concerned.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on my door, and I wondered if Timothy had forgotten something, or if he was returning for another goodnight kiss. Either way, I was ready for him.

What I wasn’t expecting was a drunken Greg Andrews standing there, clearly furious with me.

“Greg, you’re not welcome here,” I said as I started to slam the door in his face.

His foot was too quick for me, though, despite the fact that he was clearly inebriated. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. I saw you out tonight.”

“So what?” I asked defiantly. “I can do whatever I want to.”

“And whoever you want to, too. Timothy Roberts? Seriously? Is that the best you can do, Annie?”

“Greg, he’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” I said.

“Ha. He can’t compare to me on his best day,” Greg said. A little plaintively, he added, “Would you mind easing up on the door? My foot’s starting to hurt a little.”

“I don’t care if it falls off,” I said. How was I going to get rid of him? My cellphone was over on the table, my gun was in the hall closet, and my baseball bat was upstairs. One thing was certain; he wasn’t getting anything more than a foot in my door if I had to stand there pinning him in place all night.

Luckily, I didn’t have to.

I heard the whoop of a police siren, and a minute later, Kathleen was manhandling Greg into the back of her patrol car. How had she managed to cuff his hands and move him there so quickly? I had new respect for my sister’s abilities as a law enforcement officer.

“Did he bother you?” Kathleen asked when I followed her outside.

“He didn’t have the chance. How did you know he was here?”

“We got a call about a weaving car in the area, and I put two and two together. I’m glad that you’re okay.”

“It feels good having my big sister look out for me,” I admitted.

“It doesn’t hurt that she’s the sheriff too, does it?” Kathleen asked me with a grin.

“What’s going to happen with his car?” I asked her as she started to get into her squad car.

“I’ll have Hank and Ginny come out and pick it up tonight,” she said.

“What’s going to happen to him?” I asked as I gestured back toward Greg.

“He refused a breathalyzer
and
a field sobriety test, so we’re going to the hospital and getting a blood sample. I’m afraid he’s in for a long night in my drunk tank after that.”

“It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” I said. “Thanks for being there when I needed you.”

“All part of the service,” she said, and then my sister drove off with that idiot in cuffs in her backseat.

Greg had lost his mind, in more ways than one. Not only had he acted as though we were still dating when clearly we were not, but he’d driven drunk, something that was unforgivable. I’d lost both my parents because of a drunk driver, and as far as I was concerned, he was dead to me from that moment forward.

Half an hour later I heard a car pull up outside. I peeked out the window and saw Kathleen’s two deputy sheriffs retrieve Greg’s car and drive it off my property. I hadn’t even wanted to go outside long enough to thank them. What had been a truly enchanted evening had just as suddenly turned sour, and the only thing that I wanted to do now was to put it all behind me. It wasn’t Timothy’s fault in any way, shape, or form, but it was tarnished nonetheless, and I hoped that when our murder investigations were over, we’d be able to capture a little of the magic that we’d shared earlier.

Chapter 18: Pat

“W
hat are you doing here?” I asked Betty Murphy when I realized that she was there. Betty was sitting in one of the rocking chairs on our front porch, and I shivered a bit when I realized that it had once held a dead body in that exact same spot.

“I need to talk to you, Pat.”

“Well, come on inside. I’ll make us some coffee.”

She shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay out here.”

The woman was clearly rattled about something. “Betty, what’s going on?” I asked as I took another seat nearby.

She sighed heavily before she spoke again. “I thought it was all behind me when Mitchell died ten years ago. It took me forever to get over his murder. It wasn’t just the fact that he was killed, it was that he had been cheating on me with someone else at the time. I have a feeling that whoever it was is the one who murdered him.”

“It’s just a guess though, isn’t it?” I asked as I rocked nearby.

“Maybe so, but it’s an educated one. Mitchell and I were going to be married. Did you know that?”

“No, I hadn’t heard that.”

“Well, it’s true,” she said. “He proposed the night before he was slain. I’m guessing that he broke it off with whoever he was seeing on the side, and they killed him in a fit of rage.”

“It’s entirely possible,” I said, “but unfortunately, a few other folks had it in for Mitchell besides his other romantic interests.” She must have missed my reference to plural women.

Betty laughed harshly. “Don’t dignify her relationship with my fiancé by labeling it as romantic. It was physical, a convenience for Mitchell, and nothing more.” She paused a moment before adding, “I know how I’m making him sound. He wasn’t an angel by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t deserve to die because of a few lapses in judgment.”

“No, I agree with you there. Do you have any idea at all who he was secretly seeing when he was murdered?”

“It was either Sally Tremont or Harriet Parton. That much I’m sure about.” I suspected that it might have been both, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Not Edith Bost?” I asked.

“Edith? No. Of course not. Why would you even think that for one moment? Edith was happily married at the time Mitchell was murdered.”

“Did she have any kind of relationship at all with Mitchell?”

“I just said that she wasn’t sleeping with him!” Betty snapped, her temper coming to light. It hadn’t been the first time she’d yelled at me, or most of the folks who knew her. Was she really here to help us figure out who had killed Mitchell Wells, or was she fishing for information to see if we suspected her in that killing, and Albert Yeats’s homicide as well?

“Take it easy, Betty. We’re on the same side here.”

She took a few audible breaths, and when she spoke again, she was calm once more. “Albert had to stir things up,” she said. “And then he went and got himself killed, too.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t part of his plan,” I said.

“Of course it wasn’t. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Why are you asking me about Edith?”

“I understand that she had a secret she was guarding, and I wondered what that might have had to do with Mitchell.”

Betty frowned, and then she said, “There was something going on. I came into the room once when the two of them were talking. Mitchell was glaring at Edith, and she looking back at him defiantly. When I asked them what was going on, they said that it was something from the past. Come to think of it, just before she left, Edith said, “And that’s where it’s going to stay, if I have anything to say about it.” It struck me as odd, but Mitchell just shrugged the whole thing off. When I pressed him about it, he said that it was family business, and he wouldn’t say anything else about it.”

How odd. What could that mean? It seemed as though I was going to have to have another uncomfortable conversation with Edith in the morning. She needed to clear this up for us once and for all.

“Did you know anything about Ollie’s beef with Mitchell?” I asked. I knew the story, but I wanted to know if she did.

Betty frowned and stared down at her hands for a few seconds before she answered. “Yes, I knew all about that will business. It wasn’t my fiancé’s finest moment.”

“Did you tell the police about it at the time?” I asked. “It might have mattered then.”

“I tried to, but they were determined to put Albert in prison for the murder, and they wouldn’t listen to any other theories.”

“Did you honestly believe that Albert killed Mitchell at the time?”

“Pat, I was so grief-stricken that I wanted to lash out at someone, and Albert became an easy target. It was only after he was in jail that I began to think rationally again, and by then, it was too late.”

I hadn’t learned much so far by being passive in my questioning, so it was time to push Betty a little harder. “Didn’t the police look at you as a suspect?” I asked her gently.

“Of course they did,” she said. “If I hadn’t had an airtight alibi myself, I might have taken Albert’s place in prison. I was certain that in their minds, a betrayal of our engagement was enough of a motive for me.”

“Do you mind me asking what your alibi was?”

“It’s ironic in a way. I was having dinner with Judge Winslow’s daughter at the time of Mitchell’s murder.”

“What’s ironic about that?”

“She was helping me plan my wedding at the exact same time that my fiancé was being stabbed to death.”

I didn’t think that qualified as irony, but I wasn’t about to point that out to her. At least we’d be able to strike her name off the list of suspects for Mitchell’s murder, and if we were right in assuming that the killer of both men was one and the same, she was off the hook for Albert’s as well.

“Can you give me any hints about how I might get some of the other suspects to talk to me?” I asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there something that only you and Mitchell knew about any of them? I’m looking for a way to push someone into a confession, so the more damaging the information about them, the better.”

“You know that I hate gossip, but I think I can help you there.” Was there a gleam in her eye as she spoke?

“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable inside?” I asked. There was a distinct chill in the air now that it was dark, and my suit wasn’t all that warm to begin with.

“No, I’m fine,” she said.

Apparently I was just going to have to shiver my way through the rest of our conversation. “Go on, then.”

“Let’s see. Where to begin? Okay, we should probably start with Sally Tremont. Did you know that besides the possibility that she was sleeping with Mitchell, there was someone else in her bed on occasion?”

“I had no idea.”

“Ask Ollie Wilson about it,” she said smugly.

“Hang on a second. Sally and Ollie were together at some point?”

“Oh, yes.”

“But they hate each other,” I said.

“Sure, now, but once upon a time, they were hot and heavy at it. That’s why I was surprised after Mitchell and Ollie had their falling out that Sally might have kept on seeing my fiancé as well. I can think of one reason, though.”

“What’s that?” I asked, still blown away by the implication that those two had ever had an affair in the first place.

“She may have stayed close to him to exact her revenge,” Betty said.

“Could she really be that cold hearted?” I asked.

“Patrick, you’re still young. You have a lot to learn about people, and women in particular.”

“No argument there,” I said. “If that was the case, Ollie could have had two reasons to hate Mitchell as well; the improprieties with the will, and the fact that Mitchell was sleeping with his girlfriend. Either motive would be powerful enough incentive for some men.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Betty said, “but it makes sense to me.”

“What about Harriet?” I asked her.

“Do you know there’s a reason she never married?” Betty asked me.

“I just assumed it was because she’d never found the right one.”

“In her mind, she did, but he ended up breaking her heart. She was shattered when Mitchell was murdered, even more than I was. I kept thinking that maybe it was a guilty conscience over killing him herself that drove her to such despair.”

“How can I use that against her, though?” I hated thinking that way about people I’d known as friends for years, but Annie and I had to come up with something.

“What if I told you that it wasn’t just being spurned that sent her into a tailspin?”

“It might help to know more,” I said.

“I’m not proud of this, but Mitchell used money he extorted from Harriet’s father to buy my engagement ring.”

“Did he actually tell you that himself?” I asked. I was beginning to wonder why someone hadn’t gotten rid of Mitchell Wells sooner than they did. The man was a real cad in every sense of the word.

“No. She did, right after the funeral. She actually tried to pry it off my finger! Can you believe it? When I refused to give it to her, she told me the entire story; her version of it, at any rate. Mitchell learned about something Harriet’s father did that was considered shady at the time, and he’d used the information as a club on poor Harriet.”

“It’s hard to reconcile the woman I know with the one you’re portraying. She doesn’t seem the emotional type, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s how she got that way, Pat. He broke her completely, and she swore to me that she’d never let her emotions control her life again.”

If what Betty was telling me was true, then Harriet was going to be tough to crack.

I hated myself for asking, but I had no choice if I was going to be thorough. “What about Edith?”

“Sorry. I can’t help you there. I’ve told you all that I know.”

As she finished speaking, there was a snapped twig in the trees beside the Iron, and Betty’s head went up like a shot. “Who’s there?” she called out.

“Did you see someone?” I asked her as I got off the porch and started in the direction where the sound had come from. Someone was keeping tabs on my movements, and I was getting tired of it.

“Not a face, but a flash of something shiny reflected in the light from the streetlamp,” she said.

The next moment, there was a crashing through the trees, and I took off in the direction of the sound. What I was going to do if I caught the eavesdropper was something else altogether, but I didn’t find out. I was still fighting my way through the dense copse when I heard a car speed off, and by the time I got into the street, whoever had been there was now gone.

“Did you see who it was?” Betty asked me as she joined me in the street.

“No, they were too quick for me.” I turned to look at her and could see that the blood had all drained from her face. “Are you okay?”

“What do you think?” she snapped at me. “I just gave a killer enough motive to get rid of me, too.”

“Take it easy, Betty. This is no time to panic. We don’t even know if whoever was out there heard anything.”

“We don’t know that they didn’t hear it all, either. This town is suddenly not as safe as it once was for me. I’m leaving, Pat.”

“Where are you going?”

“Does it matter? I’m planning on taking a vacation until someone catches the killer. I refuse to be the next victim.”

“What about your shop?” I asked her.

“I have competent people running it,” she said brusquely. “I’m beginning to regret opening up to you, Pat.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She touched my hand lightly. “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You’re the one who needs to watch his step now.”

“Why is that?”

“Whoever was out there knows that you’re a real threat to their freedom now,” she said. “That puts you squarely in the killer’s sights.”

“I’ll be all right,” I said.

“I just wish you sounded more confident,” Betty said. “I’m sorry if I put you in danger, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Good-bye, Pat.”

“Bye, Betty. Thanks for sharing all of that with me. I know how painful it must have been for you to dredge up the past like that.”

“The wounds will never heal completely, but I’ll manage.”

After she drove away, I headed inside, being careful to lock the door behind me. In fact, I was halfway up the stairs to my apartment when I pivoted and went back to double check. It was properly locked, but I knew that I’d sleep better knowing it.

I wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, though.

I had a call to make.

“I’m fine, Pat,” were the first words out of Annie’s mouth when she realized that I was calling.

“Why shouldn’t you be? Did something happen?” What had my twin sister gotten herself into this time?

“I thought Kathleen must have called you. Never mind. What’s up?”