Murder to Go (The Heights Bed and Breakfast Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) (6 page)

“Don’t
be so pig-headed,” Carolyn snapped. “You always provided for me and Sarah. Now
it’s my turn to do the same thing for you. You’ll get used to the idea, and
then we can start enjoying the money I’m making with my blog. We can travel. We
can take time off. It is time you enjoyed some fancy meals rather then serving
them.
We can....”

“Guard!”
Karl launched himself off his chair. “Get me out of here! Take me back to my
cell.”

Carolyn
struggled to her feet. “What are you doing? Stay and talk to me.”

He
was already gone. The iron door clanged shut, and Babs appeared at Carolyn’s
side. “Give him some time. I tried to warn you but it is hard to explain.”

Carolyn
stared at the door. “I’ve never seen him like this. Isn’t there anything I can
do to get through to him?”

“He’ll
come around,” Babs told her. “Everyone acts this way when they first come in.
They get used to it. In time, Karl will be happy to see his family again.”

“I
don’t intend to let him stay in here long enough to get used to it,” Carolyn
replied. “There is someone else who killed Porky. I will prove it and take Karl
home.”

Babs
squeezed her hand. “I hope you do.”

Carolyn
turned to look at her. “You do? Do you think Karl’s innocent, too?”

Babs
shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. All the evidence points to him, but you
were right. There’s something about him that tells me he couldn't have done it.
I've known a lot of killers in my career, and they all act a certain way. Karl
isn't a killer. The murder has upset the Evergreen Cove community. My captain
wanted Karl to be arrested as a way to calm the public.”

“Have
you considered looking into Porky’s wife?” Carolyn asked. “He was married, you
know. I found his wedding band in his room at the B & B, and he was with
another woman when he died. Maybe his wife killed him.”

“We
already thought of that,” Babs replied. “We looked at her before we went after
Karl. She was on a flight to New York when Porky died. The flight manifest
confirmed it. She’s got an iron-clad alibi.”

Carolyn
wilted. “Oh.”

Babs
opened the door to the police station waiting room. “You can get your things
from the guard. Have a good day.”

Carolyn
whirled around. “Wait a minute.”

“What
is it?” Babs asked.

“Did
you know there’s another restaurant owner in the area who threatened Porky over
a bad review?” Carolyn told her. “Beatrice Hurley owns the Foxtrot Cafe over
the hill. Have you looked into her?”

Babs
chuckled. “It would take the entire police force to interview everyone who
threatened Porky after he reviewed them. I know it’s hard for you to accept,
but Karl is the only one who had motive and opportunity. He’s the only suspect
who makes sense.”

“There
must be a way around this,” Carolyn muttered, “and I’m going to find it.”

Babs
led her out to the front desk. “Just remember, whoever did it must have had
access to the lunchboxes. It’s critical that you prove that.”

“I
understand.”

Babs
chuckled. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you. I never told you this before, but
I’m a foodie, too.”

Carolyn
gasped. “You are?”

Babs
nodded. “I follow all the food blogs, including yours. I never thought I’d meet
you in person, though. You don’t go out of your way to give people good
reviews. You’re always honest, but you never cut anybody off at the knees the
way Porky did. That’s why you’re so popular.”

Carolyn
smirked. “I never imagined you would read my blog.”

“Oh,
sure,” Babs replied. “You are a good writer. I have discovered a lot of new
restaurants through your reviews.”

“It
is always great to meet a fan. Thanks for helping me out today,” Carolyn
remarked. “I will be back with proof.”

After
leaving the police station, Carolyn found herself standing on the street corner
with her keys and purse in her hand. The late morning sun blinded and confused
her. Where was she supposed to go now?

She
started walking without really thinking about where she was going, but the act
of walking cleared her mind. She headed over the hill and found the Foxtrot
Cafe right where Stan said it would be. Cars filled the parking lot, and people
went in and out through the main entrance door.

Carolyn
entered the Cafe and noticed people of all ages crowded the waiting area. Kids
played with toys on the floor, and the adults read magazines while they waited.

The
moment she stepped inside, a heavy woman rushed up to her and grabbed her by
the elbow. “Come in, come in. You must be Carolyn Jacobson. I recognize you
from your picture on your blog. I’m Beatrice Hurley, and I’m your biggest fan.
We just cleared off a table by the front window. Sit down and I’ll get you some
lunch.”

“But
I didn’t come for lunch,” Carolyn protested.

Beatrice
waved her hand. “I insist. Sit down and I’ll tell the chef to make you the
daily specialty. It’s on the house. I can’t wait to read your review of the
Foxtrot Cafe.”

“But
I didn’t come to review you either,” Carolyn insisted.

Beatrice
stopped in mid-step. She regarded Carolyn. Then she came closer and dropped her
voice to a murmur. “I know you didn’t. You came to ask me about Porky Tenboom’s
murder, didn’t you?”

Carolyn
blushed. “I only wanted....”

Beatrice
laid her hand on Carolyn’s arm. “That’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to
explain it to me. I’ll tell you right now, I was cooking here with my staff the
day Porky was murdered. I never left the restaurant. My staff can vouch for
that.”

Carolyn’s
shoulders sagged. “Oh.”

Beatrice
ushered her into the restaurant. “Sit down. You look like you need a good
meal.”

Carolyn
sank into her chair, and Beatrice disappeared. A moment later, she set a
steaming plate of pasta marinara with sausage and a basket of bread in front of
Carolyn and sat in the chair opposite her. “Eat up. It’ll put a smile on your
face. By the way, we make the sauce from scratch and the sausage is handmade.”

Carolyn
swirled her fork, wrapping it with noodles. The instant the savory smell
entered her nostrils, her mouth watered. Her cares evaporated, and she glanced
across the table at Beatrice. “Thanks for this. This pasta looks fantastic”

Beatrice
waved her hand. “I used to eat at your restaurant all the time. Karl was the
best cook I’ve ever met. I only wish I could do something to help him out.”

Carolyn
stared down at her plate. “You can’t imagine how much stress this situation has
put on my family.”

Beatrice
nodded. “I’m sure it has. I heard about all the guests leaving. Everyone is a
bit on edge. How can I help?”

“I
can’t think of anything,” Carolyn murmured. “I came here hoping to reveal you
as the murderer, but I’m glad you have an alibi. I only wish Karl had one.”

“If I
hear anything,” Beatrice told her, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Thanks,”
Carolyn exclaimed. “Thanks again for everything.”

“It’s
the least I can do,” Beatrice replied as she stood up. “I’ve been waiting a
long time to meet you. I would give anything to have you review my restaurant.”

Carolyn
looked around. “I would love to. I could do it right now, if you’re comfortable
with that.”

“I
have a better idea,” Beatrice told her. “Why don’t you come around for my
chef’s tasting menu? I have it every Saturday, and it would give you a more
complete picture of my menu. I even include a bunch of specials, so you can see
everything I have to offer.”

Carolyn’s
eyes widened. “Wow, Beatrice. You really have your ducks in a row.”

Beatrice
smiled. “I try to. It always pays to have an option on display for those times
when people like you come around and want to tell everybody what a fantastic
restaurant I have here.”

Carolyn
laughed out loud. “In that case, I would definitely love to review you. I’m
sorry I never heard of you before today.”

Beatrice
waved her hand. “Don’t worry about that. You’re famous. I'm just a little old
restaurant owner on a remote lake in the mountains. You can't expect to have
heard of everybody.”

“I’m
hardly famous,” Carolyn replied. “I’m just a food blogger.”

Beatrice
gasped. “Just a food blogger? No way! You’re so much more than that. You’re
kind and honest. You're everything Porky Tenboom was not. People would post a
link to your blog with their response to his reviews and say, 'Don’t take
Porky’s word for it. Just look what this blogger had to say about my
restaurant.' You give so many people encouragement. I guess no one ever told
you before, so let me be the first. You don't know what your blog means to
people like me trying to make it in this business.”

Carolyn
stared at her. “Really? I never knew that.”

“Don’t
you ever think about stopping your blog,” Beatrice told her. “It’s the best
thing in the world.”

“Thanks,”
Carolyn exclaimed. “I had no idea.”

“Now
you know,” Beatrice replied. “Why do you think you get so much traffic and so
many sponsors?”

“I
always tried to give good reviews,” Carolyn told her. “I didn’t know it meant
so much to everybody.”

Beatrice
laid her hand on Carolyn’s arm. “It’s you. Your personality and your wit shine
through with every post.”

“Thank
you, Beatrice,” Carolyn exclaimed. “You don’t know how much that means to me
right now. I had just about given up.”

“You
can’t give up now. I’ve been waiting for ages to get a review from you, and now
I'm going to get it. If you want to give up, just wait until after Saturday to
do it,” Beatrice quipped.

Carolyn
burst out laughing. “All right. I definitely won’t give up before then.”

Beatrice
turned back toward the kitchen. “Great. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Carolyn
let herself into her room at Stan’s Motel. She put her laptop away and changed
into her pajamas, but when she got into bed, she stared at the ceiling in
restless thought. The murder case, the catastrophic argument between her and
David, her crumbling marriage with Karl—too many things cluttered her mind. She
couldn’t let go of the world to let herself slip off into sleep.

She slipped
out of bed and paced around the room for an hour or more. Three or four times,
she got out her laptop, but instead of plugging it in and turning it on, she ended
up pushing it into its case in disgust. Couldn’t she be free from that infernal
machine for one night out of the year?

She
looked out the window at cars gliding in and out of the motel parking lot. Stan
certainly was doing well. His establishment wasn’t fancy, but he offered clean,
comfortable rooms and excellent food. No one could fault him for that.

She
turned away from the window when she heard a thump through the wall. Kat Coeur
d’Alene must be getting ready for her nightly act. She should have been
performing at The Heights instead.

Carolyn
decided she would benefit from listening to some music. She threw on her
clothes and rushed down to the bar. Kat was just getting behind the microphone.
She spotted Carolyn in the back of the bar and smiled at her. Carolyn sat down
and listened to the music. Kat’s throaty voice sent chills up Carolyn’s spine.
She relaxed back into her chair and let her cares drift away. Maybe she was
making too much of all this murder case stuff. She should let Babs do her job
and stick to her blog. That’s what she was good at. Maybe she should go home to
The Heights after all and make up with Sarah and David.

On
the other hand, she made the mistake of overstaying her welcome in their apartment
in the first place. She should rent a place nearby for herself and Karl. She
would still be able to see Sarah and David whenever she wanted and share their
lives.

Then
again, Karl might refuse to live in the place rented with money earned on her blog.
He was just stubborn enough to take a stance like that. He was an old-school
male. If he wasn’t the primary breadwinner with everyone depending on him, he felt
useless. Carolyn knew that about him. She never should have told him about her
money. Then none of this would have happened.

Kat
finished her set to rousing applause and took a break. To Carolyn’s surprise,
Kat came over to her table.

“That
was sensational, Kat. You are too good for a small town like this. When are you
taking your act on the road?”

Kat
laughed and sat down across the table. “Just as soon as my agent gets me a
booking. What are you doing, slumming it here at Stan’s?”

“I
really wanted to hear you sing,” Carolyn remarked.

“How’s
Karl?” Kat asked.

“Not
good,” Carolyn replied. “He’s taking it hard, but that’s to be expected when
you’ve been arrested for a double murder.”

“It
doesn’t make sense,” Kat exclaimed. “I had one of the lunchboxes Karl made that
day, too, and there was no poison in mine.”