Evil Eclairs (14 page)

As Grace parked in front of her friend’s shop, she said, “It surely is a vast improvement over what they had before. Let’s go see what Bill has to say.”

The antiques shop was well lit and uncluttered, something I wasn’t used to seeing in that kind of store. It was clear that Bill liked things neat. There were carefully laid out sections marked Tools, Books, Furniture, Collectibles, and several other categories. A tall and willowy man came out of the back office as we walked in, his blue eyes lighting up when he recognized Grace.

“As I live and breathe,” he said as he took Grace’s hands in his own. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”

“I’m well. And you?”

He pointed around his shop. “Contrary to how it looks at the moment, business is booming.” He turned his gaze toward me. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Suzanne Hart,” she said, and Bill looked delighted.

“You own Donut Hearts,” he said with a smile.

“You know it?” I asked. For the life of me, I didn’t recognize him. Not that I knew every customer who came through my door, but I expected him to at least look familiar. “Have we met?”

“No, but I have a friend who buys donuts from you just about every week, and sometimes she’s good enough to share with me.”

“Who is it?”

“Lisa Grambling.”

“I know Lisa well,” I said. She was a short, curvy woman with a ready smile and a constant yen for my donuts.

He patted his lean stomach. “Sometimes I wish she wasn’t such a big fan of yours. Are you two ladies looking for something in particular, or are you just browsing?”

“We’re looking for some information,” Grace said.

Bill looked around, pretending to study his shop. “Let’s see, I’m not sure I carry that. The closest I come to that is my book section, but I’ve got a hunch that’s not what you’re after.”

“It’s about Vern Yancey,” I said.

That’s when Bill’s expression tightened, the smile dropping off his face as though it had never been there.

“Do you know him?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

We weren’t about to let it go at that, though. Evidently we’d done the right thing coming to Bill first.

“It’s okay,” Grace said. “I promise, this is just among friends.”

It was clear he realized that we weren’t going anywhere without a fight.

Apparently he didn’t mind having one.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said.

CHAPTER 10

Grace said softly, “I know we didn’t date a long time, but surely you know me well enough to realize that you can trust me, Bill. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“I said I don’t have anything to say to you,” he declared.

I looked around the shop. “There’s no one here but the three of us. Anything you tell us will be kept quiet. You have our word.”

Bill frowned, scratched his cheek, and then said, “I’m not a bad guy. I’d like to help you, but I can’t risk it.”

“We understand,” I said as I tugged at Grace’s arm.

Instead of leaving as I’d suggested, Grace turned to him. “Bill, it’s safe to tell us. I promise neither one of us will say a word to anyone. Wouldn’t it be nice not to be afraid, just once?”

Bill lowered his voice, though no one would have been able to hear him had he decided to shout out his reply. “Yeah, maybe it would. I don’t own this building. I lease it, along with just about everyone else on the strip. Take three guesses who owns everything you see.”

“I just need one,” I said. “So what if Vern is your landlord? He can’t throw you out for talking about him.”

Bill shook his head. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Two months ago Connie Branton made a crack about him at the Popover Diner, and the next day she got an eviction notice. It seemed that she wasn’t in compliance with a clause none of us even recognized. Her aisles were an inch and half too narrow, and she had seven days to vacate the premises. I knew I should have gotten a lawyer to check out the contract I signed with him, but it was such a good deal, I couldn’t afford to say no. It’s the same situation the rest of us are in. Vern’s taken over most of this street, and there’s not a thing any of us can do about it. Now do me a favor and forget I said a word to you.”

“We can do that,” I said as I started for the door.

Grace touched his arm lightly. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

Bill forced out a smile. “It’s not that bad. As long as we don’t make waves, things are good here.”

We were at the door when I stopped and turned around. “Any idea where Vern might be right now?”

Bill’s face paled slightly. “You’re not going to talk to him, are you?”

“That’s why we’re here,” I said.

“Don’t mention my name. Promise me that.”

“He won’t hear it from us,” Grace said. “Does he have an office around here?”

“He does, but he won’t be there. Vern is building a new home on Lakeside Road, and he’s been spending all of his time out there on the site.” Bill reluctantly gave us directions, and then said, “But you’d both be doing me a favor if you just forget about him altogether.”

“I wish we could,” I said, “but like I told you before, it’s important.”

After we were in the car following Bill’s directions, Grace said, “I can’t believe how spooked Bill was. If you had asked me before we went in, I would have said nothing could rattle him.”

“It sounds as though he has a right to be jumpy,” I said. “No wonder Lester went after Vern. It explains Cara’s reaction to him, too.”

“He sounds like a real charmer.”

“I know it’s not going to be particularly pleasant, Grace, but we have to get a feel for what the man’s capable of.”

She shook her head. “I think we already know that, don’t you?”

“Being a bully doesn’t make him a murderer.”

She frowned a second, and then said, “It doesn’t clear him, either.”

We got to the house under construction, and it was even larger than Bill had told us. It was hard to believe that anyone in Hudson Creek could afford that kind of place, but if Vern Yancey owned as much of the town as Bill said, it was entirely possible.

We got out of the car as a brand-new black Ford pickup came down the drive. The man behind the wheel stopped when he saw us, and rolled his window down.

“Help you?” he asked.

“We’re looking for Vern Yancey,” I said.

“Found him,” he answered. Vern was clearly a man of few words. I couldn’t see a great deal of him, but what I saw wasn’t the least bit intimidating. He was in his fifties, a small and wiry man with wisps of hair hanging doggedly onto his scalp.

“Do you have a second?” Grace asked.

“About that,” he answered. It was clear that he had no interest in getting out of the car, so we were going to have to interview him right there.

“It’s about Lester Moorefield,” I said.

Vern spat in the dirt. “Got what he deserved, if you ask me.”

This wasn’t going to be easy. “He came after you, too, didn’t he?”

That sparked a little interest in his gaze. “You?”

“I own a donut shop, and he called my donuts poison.”

Vern nodded, whether in simple acknowledgment or sympathy, I couldn’t say.

“We were wondering if the police have asked you for an alibi yet,” Grace said.

“Nope.”

“Do you have one?” I asked.

He stared holes through me, rolled up his window, and drove off.

I looked at Grace. “That went well, didn’t it?”

“Probably what we should have expected,” I answered. “I’m going to tell Jake about him. I’m curious to see how tough Vern is when he’s talking to a state police investigator.”

“He can’t say much less, can he? What should we do next?”

I checked my watch. “I think we need to head back to April Springs. There’s nothing else we can learn here.”

“I’m fine with that,” Grace said. “It’s just really frustrating when people won’t talk to us.”

“They’re not under any obligation to,” I said. “We just have to take the crumbs we can get, and do our best with that. I’m trying to discover things Jake might miss, not solve the case. If I can give him a tip or two and not have to talk to a murderer, I’m fine with that.”

“Okay, then. Home it is. When are you going to talk to Jake?”

“I’m not sure,” I said as we drove back home. “I’ll have to find the right moment.”

Grace laughed. “Good luck with that.”

As we drove back into town, I reflected that I was happy I lived in April Springs and not Hudson Creek. Our community, though small, was diverse enough that no one person could exert that much influence over us. Then again, I wondered how many people in Hudson Creek were actually aware of what Vern Yancey was doing. Could there be an equally strong power at work behind the scenes in our town? If there was, I didn’t know about it, and frankly, I liked it that way. There were times when ignorance was bliss, and I was willing to count this as one of them. I had enough to worry about in my own circle without taking on any more concerns. As long as I had my mother, my friends, and my donuts, I could be happy with the way the rest of the world operated.

“Suzanne, I think we found George,” Grace said as she neared Donut Hearts. His sedan was parked in the spot beside mine.

“I wonder how long he’s been waiting,” I said. As we got closer, I saw that George was slumped over in his seat.

Had something happened to him while we’d been off chasing clues? If he was dead, particularly because he’d been helping me, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

*   *   *

I held my breath as I tapped on the car window. “George? Are you all right?”

To my great relief, he jerked up in his seat. “Sorry about that,” he said as he got out. “I must have dozed off.”

“I’m the one who’s been up since one-thirty,” I said. “If anybody deserves a nap, it’s me.”

“I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping lately,” he admitted. “Enough about that. Where have you two been?”

“We just got back from Hudson Creek,” Grace said.

“I never did like that town.”

“It’s an interesting place,” I said. “We were interviewing a suspect there. Have you ever heard of Vern Yancey?”

“Why do you think I don’t care for Hudson Creek? He’s a cocky little bantam rooster of a man. I arrested him once for speeding, and he threatened me with just about everything short of public hanging if I didn’t tear up the ticket.”

“Did it stick?” Grace asked.

“You bet, but he’s been gunning for me ever since. I’m sorry I didn’t get in on that interview with you. I would have loved to put the screws to him again.”

“You may get your chance later,” I said. “Did you have any luck with the investors Lester scammed?”

George shook his head. “All but one is dead. This happened a long time ago, and he targeted senior citizens. The guy who’s still alive is a pistol, though. He’s living in Asheville, and he’s not afraid who knows he threatened Lester. I think he was kind of proud of it, if you ask me.”

“Is he a viable suspect?” I asked.

George shook his head. “The man’s in a wheelchair staying in an assisted living home, so he doesn’t have access to transportation. The night Lester was murdered, he was in the hospital for observation. From what I was able to find out, we can strike that entire line of inquiry off our list.”

“How about the other side of the coin? Any idea who might have targeted him as a victim?”

George shook his head. “As far as I could tell, everyone involved in the case believed that he spent that money a long time ago. There wasn’t anything to steal.”

I nodded. “You were productive, then.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” George said as he stretched his neck a little. Evidently his nap had put a crick in his shoulders.

“We can eliminate two entire types of suspects,” I said. “That’s pretty good in my book. Now we can focus on some of the folks who had the opportunity and the motivation to strangle him.”

“It’s still a pretty long list,” George said, “but I’ll keep digging.”

“Touch base tomorrow,” I said, and he nodded as he got into his car and drove off.

Once he was gone, Grace asked, “Was it my imagination, or was George a little touchy just then?”

“We caught him napping,” I said. “That had to be a little embarrassing.”

“I suppose so. Any plans tonight?”

“Are you asking ever so subtly if I’m seeing Jake?”

“That, among other things,” she said.

“Grace, I wish I knew. Jake gets kind of odd when he’s on a case, especially when it involves me.”

“And you’re a little odd all of the time,” she said with an affectionate smile.

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t, that’s how I meant it.”

I glanced at her and asked, “How about you? I’m sure you have to have something going on.”

“You bet I do. I’m taking a long hot bath, ordering in, and not doing anything the rest of the evening. It sounds like a little slice of paradise to me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, and drove off.

I got into my Jeep and headed home. I hoped Momma had cooked something special tonight. I was in the mood for one of her feasts, and if I was lucky, that was exactly what I was going to get.

I was already dreaming about what delicious meal I was about to eat when I slammed on the brakes of the Jeep.

A police cruiser was parked in our driveway, and I raced up the steps, dreading the thought that something had happened to my mother.

*   *   *

“Is everything all right?” I asked breathlessly as I burst into our living room.

Momma was sitting on the couch, and Chief Martin was in my favorite chair. Momma looked surprised. “Of course it is. Why shouldn’t it be, Suzanne?”

After my heart stopped racing, I said, “I came home and found a police car in my driveway. Forgive me if I panicked.”

The police chief said, “This isn’t a professional call.”

“Phillip was just leaving,” my mother said.

It was clear that was news to the chief, but he took the hint and stood, retrieving his hat. “We’ll talk more later,” he said to my mother.