Fugitive Filling (13 page)

“That’s the killer, isn’t it? I’m taking you at your word, Jake. I’m not thinking about you, since you’re willing to stay or to go. I love being near Momma, but will I still feel that way at the expense of giving up the donut shop and the cottage? This is where I work and live, and nearly all of my friends are here.”

“I know you. You can make new friends wherever you go, but how much longer are you going to have your mother around?”

I took my eyes off the road for a second and glanced at him. “Jake, do you
want
to leave April Springs?” The thought had never even occurred to me.

“No, I didn’t mean to give you that notion. It’s just that my folks have been gone for a long time, and I’d give just about anything to watch a ball game with my dad or taste my mom’s apple pie again.”

“I get that, I really do, but I don’t want to sell the shop and move, only to resent Momma later for forcing me into doing it.”

“Suzanne, that’s the beauty of the situation. You don’t
have
to do anything.”

“No, but if I don’t, I lose my close contact with my mother. If I decide to uproot us and move wherever they do, then I lose everything else.”

“But me,” he said.

“But you,” I echoed.

We were fast approaching Becky’s address, and I could see a row of four greenhouses coming up. There was a small bungalow in front, not much bigger than the place where Teresa Logan had been living, and there was an old car parked in front. A driveway full of gravel went from the road to the house, but not far beyond the edge of the drive, I could see the red dirt clay that was everywhere in our area.

“Let’s go see what’s going on with Becky,” I said as I parked the Jeep in front.

“We can talk more about the situation with your mother later,” Jake offered.

“Thanks, but if anything, it just confuses me more. For now, let’s deal with something simple like Teresa Logan’s murder.”

“Do you call this simple?”

“No, but compared to my situation, it’s practically cut and dried. All we have to do is figure out which one of our suspects killed her and then tell the police chief.”

“Is that all?” Jake asked with a grin. “We should be done by nightfall, if that’s the case.”

“I know you’re joking, but you might be right. I have a feeling that things are coming to a head sooner rather than later.”

I knocked on the bungalow’s door, but there was no response.

“Maybe she’s in one of the greenhouses,” Jake suggested.

“She had a migraine, at least according to Cindy,” I answered, knocking harder this time but still not getting any response.

“Let me try,” Jake said, and then he hit the door, banged on it, really, until I swore that I could see it shake in the frame.

Finally, the door opened. Becky stood there shielding her eyes. “What is it?” she asked softly.

“Sorry. We heard that you left work because of a headache.”

“So your solution is to practically break my door down to get me to answer?” Becky asked testily.

“We won’t keep you,” Jake said. “Who did you have a fight with at the flower shop earlier?”

Becky shook her head instead of answering the question directly. “Cindy has a big mouth.”

“We didn’t realize that it was supposed to be a secret,” I said. “Disgruntled customers are a liability in any business. I can’t believe someone held you responsible for not having any roses in stock.” We knew it had to be Bobby Wells, but what I wanted to see was if she were willing to admit it.

“Is that what she told you it was about?” Becky asked, looking around behind us for any signs that we might not have come alone. “You might as well come in. Just keep your voices down, okay?”

“We can do that,” I promised in a gentler tone.

The place was kind of plain and ordinary inside, and I couldn’t see a single personal touch that Becky had added to it. “How long have you been living here?”

“Not long,” she admitted as she stepped into the darkened living room. Momma suffered from migraines on occasion, and I knew that light or even loud noises could bring on stabbing pain. I’d have to be careful and hope that Jake would modulate his voice as well. She added, “I came in and went straight to bed. Lying down in a dark room is the only way to combat these blasted things. Why are you two even here? What does it matter what happened to me earlier?”

“It matters to us. What happened with your customer earlier?” Jake asked her softly. “We wouldn’t ask, but it’s important.”

“It wasn’t a customer,” she said. “It was Bobby Wells.” So she’d decided to tell us the truth. That was one point in her favor. “A while back, he asked me for some advice about his roses. He’s been growing some near his camper for a few years now, and he had some pests that needed addressing. I did what I could for him, and every now and then he came by for more advice.”

“We heard that he was angry with you today,” Jake prompted her.

“Angry? He was furious. He accused me of breaking into his greenhouse and stealing two of his roses! Can you imagine? He was yelling so loudly that I thought for sure Cindy must have already told you about it. I’m amazed people down the block didn’t hear him.”

“Why would he accuse you of that?”

“Who knows? The kid is off balance! He had this tragic crush on Teresa, and when she rejected him, he lost his mind! It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he’s the one who killed her. You really should be talking to him.”

“We’ve been trying to, but nobody can find him,” I said. “Do you have any ideas where we might look?”

“No, I don’t have the first clue,” she answered. “After he came into the shop and yelled at me, he stormed out again. It triggered one of my migraines, so I left the shop and came straight here and went to bed. How did you find me? I didn’t think anyone knew that I moved out here. Strike that. Cindy gave you my address, didn’t she?”

I admitted as much. “Sorry. We were worried about you.” That wasn’t entirely the truth, but I was trying to get her sympathy. Bobby’s behavior sounded as though he really was coming unraveled, but that didn’t mean that Becky was completely off the hook just yet.

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think he’ll bother me anymore.”

“Why do you say that?” Jake asked her.

“As he was exiting the shop, Bobby said that he was leaving the state and never coming back. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was in Tennessee by now.” She winced a little, and then added, “I’m really sorry, but this headache isn’t going to get any better until I lie down and put a cold washcloth on my face.”

“Do you have any medicine for it?” I asked her.

“I’ve tried a few prescriptions, but nothing seems to help. Thanks anyway. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said. As I turned to go, I nearly tripped on a pair of boots by the door.

Becky leaned forward and grabbed them. “Sorry, I should have put them away when I got in, but my headache was so blinding, I could barely see a thing.”

I brushed at my shoe and dislodged a bit of fresh red clay from it. “It’s fine. I hope you feel better soon.”

“All I need is some time alone,” she said. “I’m sure that I will be.”

Once we were outside and heading back toward the Jeep, Jake asked, “Do you believe her?”

“About Bobby? It sounded like him, didn’t it? Plus, we have Cindy to vouch for Bobby’s erratic behavior.”

“Why would he accuse her of taking some of his roses?” Jake asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been working on the premise that Bobby left those flowers for Teresa. Could it be that we’re missing someone else, another suspect that makes more sense than what we’re left with?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “This case isn’t nearly as simple as I first thought. I wonder if the police chief is having any more luck than we are.”

“Maybe I should give him a call and ask,” Jake suggested.

“Do you think he’d really tell you?” I asked him.

“Look at it this way. What can it hurt?” Jake’s grin was infectious, and I hoped that he’d have more luck than I would if it were me making that particular call.

We got into the Jeep, and I pointed it back toward town as Jake made his call. As he waited for Chief Grant to pick up, I had a feeling in my gut that we’d missed something vital.

Maybe I wasn’t nearly as good at this as I thought.

“He can’t tell us anything officially,” Jake said as he hung up.

“No surprise,” I said.

“But he asked me for a favor,” Jake continued.

“What does he need?”

“He’s got his reasons, which he hasn’t shared with me, but he thinks Bobby Wells holds the key to this case.”

“I don’t disagree with him on that, do you?”

“No, probably not,” Jake answered. “He doesn’t think he’s running yet, though.”

“Why not? Becky just made a pretty compelling case that he’s leaving town as quickly as he can manage it.”

“One of the chief’s people found Bobby’s vehicle in the bushes off Viewmont Avenue. It appears that he tried to cover it up with some branches, but it was spotted anyway.”

“So, he can’t leave town without his main source of transportation. That still doesn’t explain why he’d come back to his trailer.”

“His car might not be working, but he’s got a motorcycle stored in a shed just off the property, and Chief Grant thinks that he’s going to come back for it sooner or later. It’s as good as any theory we’ve been able to come up with ourselves.”

“Where do you come in?” I asked him.

“He wants some company on his stakeout,” Jake admitted.

“Isn’t it going to get crowded with all three of us in his squad car?”

“I’m sorry. I should have made myself clearer. The invitation was just for me.”

“I know that, you goofball,” I said with a laugh. “I was just teasing you. Sure, go on. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“What are you going to do? I might be awhile.”

“I don’t know. I’m a big girl; I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“So I can tell him that it’s okay?”

“You officially have my blessing,” I said. “Are we eating dinner first?”

“He grabbed something from the Boxcar for the both of us,” Jake admitted.

“Got it. Should I drop you off at Bobby’s place or the police station?”

“Are you sure you’re all right with this?” Jake asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, and I meant it. “To be honest with you, I wouldn’t mind having a little time alone. As much as I appreciate your offer, I’m not sure that I’m ready to pack up everything and move to the beach just because that’s where my momma’s going, you know? I always thought of us as mountain people, not beach folks.”

“Why can’t we be both?” Jake asked. “It’s not like we’ll never come back here to visit.”

“I know, but it won’t be the same, and you know it.”

We got to the station, and I found the chief waiting for Jake. He had three bags with him, and he handed one to me. “I got you a burger, too,” he said.

I laughed. “It’s not because you feel guilty about pulling my husband away on the spur of the moment, is it?”

“Maybe,” he confessed. “Does that mean you don’t want it?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to be rude,” I said as I took the offering. “Now you boys behave yourselves, and don’t stay out too late. Tomorrow’s a school day.”

They looked at each other and then at me without comment.

Oh, well. At least I thought I was funny.

“See you later,” Jake said.

I waited until after they drove off, and then I drove the Jeep over and parked in front of the donut shop. The place was dark and empty inside, but it still felt like home to me. As I ate the burger and fries, I marveled at how Donut Hearts had become such a big part of my life. Could I walk away from it, just like that? Sure, I’d have Momma and Jake with me, but I’d be leaving behind the shop and, more importantly, a great many people I cared about, from Grace to Trish to Emily to George to dozens more folks that brightened my life on a daily basis merely by being in it.

I wasn’t at all sure that I could do it, but then I thought about what Jake had said. Momma wasn’t getting any younger—for that matter, neither was I—and I had no idea how much time I had left with her. Could I just let her leave my world completely, spending a few days with her every year and trying to cram a lot of living into a short amount of time? I finished the meal and started driving around randomly, trying to find the answer.