Snow Way Out (7 page)

I wrote a new heading on the new page.
Who wanted Jerrell Powers out of the picture?
I had to consider that the person or persons who had killed him may have set out only to convince him to leave town, but the encounter became violent. Not necessarily premeditated. On the other hand, it could have been planned years before. From what I had learned in the past twenty-four hours, Powers was not the kind of guy you’d want on your team. He’d be the last pick, or asked to leave the lineup altogether.

I debated about whose name to write down first. I settled on Clint’s choice of Powers’s halfway house roommate. He had an easy-to-remember name, Benjamin, not Benedict, Arnold. That was how I remembered his name and that was what I wrote down. For all I knew there could be more than one halfway house resident who had it in for Jerrell Powers. It was just that Benjamin, not Benedict, happened to spout off about it.

There was still the mystery of the snow globe appearing then disappearing in my shop. If a stranger to the town was the guilty one, he’d likely need a local accomplice. Hmm.

Suspect number two: May Gregors. She’d said Jerrell had ruined their daughter’s life and hers at the same time. May had also told us she didn’t know Jerrell was in Brooks Landing. Maybe that was true. Maybe not. And to my way of thinking, it was a little suspicious that she just happened to schedule a class in the same town Jerrell had been living in, and committed a crime in, and still had a girlfriend in. More than a little suspicious. And she had certainly not been saddened to learn he’d been killed. Quite the opposite.

I put Lauren Engle down as suspect number three. She was obviously upset with her sister’s choice of Jerrell Powers as a boyfriend. With good reason, it seemed to me and everyone else. I would have felt the same way if one of my sisters had fallen for a loser. But was she against it enough to actually kill the man? With her size and muscle strength, Lauren would have no trouble handling just about any man. And she was roughly the same height as Powers.

And really, Pamela was not completely off the list, either. She was under pressure to give Powers the shove. Maybe she tried, but Powers wouldn’t budge, so she gave him the ax. Or the knife, as it were. It was possible she and her sister had worked together to commit the dastardly deed. Pam could have lured Powers to the park, where Lauren planted the knife. That would make it premeditated. Lauren did say she was in Brooks Landing to do her best to convince her sister to get rid of Powers. Maybe she had done just that, in the literal sense.

Who else needed consideration? I hated for even a moment to ponder that either Pinky or Erin was involved, but there was that remote possibility. If they were connected to the crime in any way, I had to believe Powers had not been killed on purpose. It would have to have been a meeting that went downhill fast, past the point of no return. I thought better of writing their names down in case they happened upon my notebook, which I vowed to keep as securely hidden as possible.

And the last two people I thought of were also unlikely suspects: Officer Mark Weston and Archie Newberry. Both were obviously protective of Erin. And of Pinky and me, to a lesser extent. Mark held a long-burning torch for Erin. He had the training to take down suspects, but would Mark risk jeopardizing the career he dearly loved to get rid of Powers?

Archie had no children of his own and spent a fair amount of time at the coffee shop, especially when Erin was there. He seemed to genuinely enjoy and appreciate our company. He even called us his “almost family friends.” But could Archie hurt a fly, much less a man?

I knew the police were hot on tracking Benjamin Arnold down, so I’d steer clear of that avenue. I was curious about other possible halfway house suspects, but thought I’d better stick closer to home first before broadening my horizons. I had a healthy list of people to investigate.

The little “ding” of a bell alerted me the coffee shop door had opened. It also reminded me that if anyone had come or gone through that door while I was in the store the previous night, I would have heard them. Unless I was in the bathroom with the door closed. Which I was for a brief minute. So that basically confirmed the person either had a key or was hiding in the store waiting for me to leave.

“It’s me!” Pinky called out as I was getting up. I shoved the notebook under the counter on the shelf.

“Okay,” I called back.

She came through the archway. “You cannot believe how everyone in town is talking. I mean, when is the last time anyone was murdered around here?”

“Um, never?”

“No, not true. We had one umpteen years ago. Remember old widow Calder? Poor thing. That was never solved.”

“Yeah, I’d forgotten about that.”

“People are talking about locking their doors and getting watchdogs and everything.”

Drastic times called for drastic measures. “Pinky, who do you think did it?”

She scrunched up her face. “That’s a funny question to ask me.”

“If you had to guess.”

“Cami, I don’t want to guess.”

The coffee shop door opened and the two new customers saved her from having to answer.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

E
rin phoned in midafternoon to see if I wanted to go out for a bite to eat after work. “I wish I could, but I’ve been summoned to a family dinner. You’re welcome to come. You can make sure I live through the interrogation of the masses.”

“Gee whiz, tempting, but no, thanks. You can stop over after your dinner instead.” She gave a single chuckle. “If you live through the interrogation, that is.”

“You have no idea. Okay, I will make every attempt to break away from Susan’s before nine o’clock and will see you then.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be waiting in my quiet house.”

We hung up and I puzzled over why Erin was so keen on getting together that night. Usually when I had other plans, she left it at that. Unless she really needed to talk to me, which must be the case.

Pinky came into Curio Finds and plopped down in one of the chairs we kept off to the side, mostly for the men who tagged along with their shopping wives. She stuck her feet straight out and stretched her arms above her head. “I am beat and we’ve got a couple more hours yet.”

“If you’re tired, go on home. You’ll be back here early tomorrow, and I’m sure I can handle things. There’s not all that much going on.”

“I suppose. I just feel like I should keep you close. Keep an eye on you.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe to keep you safe.”

“Pinky, that is sweet, but totally unnecessary. I promise I will not be taking any late-night treks alone. Unless it is on a main road.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Okay. I will not go out walking alone at night until Jerrell Powers’s killer is found.”

She reached up and adjusted her pink headband. “And what if that doesn’t happen? What if they are never found?”

They?
Did she think there was more than one person involved, or was she doing what most of us did, saying “they” instead of “him” or “her”? I shrugged. “Chances are they will find the killer, and if they don’t, we take it from there.” I thought of something else. “Oh, I meant to ask you this morning. Do you have the list of people who were at the class last night?”

Pinky’s eyebrows drew together. “Was it really only last night?”

“I know, it seems like last week. Anyway, I thought we’d better call everyone to see if they got the extra supplies May is missing by mistake.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. If someone has them, they’ll return them.”

“Not everyone would do that. Okay, maybe the ones who were here last night would. But if her stuff got mixed in with their stuff, they might not notice for a while.”

“I say let it go. We don’t want anyone to think we’re accusing them of anything, or they’d never come to another one of our classes again.”

“Golly, Pinky. You are really thinking of having another class in this same century after all that happened last night?”

“We’ll talk about it when we can all think a little better. They say time heals all wounds. We’ll see. And maybe we won’t do snow globes next time. I thought learning how to make them was kind of fun, and not as hard as I figured it’d be. Mine looks really cute on my dresser at home. The other members in the class seemed to enjoy themselves, too.”

“I was distracted knowing who was who, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. But if it wasn’t for all that, I’d have to say the class itself was fun.”

Pinky pushed herself out of the chair. “All right, then, I’ll head on home. I hear my oven calling out to me.”

“You are a dedicated baking machine.”

Pinky smiled. “That’s me, for sure.” Her smile faded. “On second thought, maybe you’d rather I hang around so you don’t have to be alone. I bet you’re still in shock about last night.”

“To tell you the truth, the whole thing seems more like a dream than reality. I feel okay, but I’ll let you know if, or when, I don’t.”

Pinky came over and gave me a hug. “Good. Hang in there, Cami.”

• • • • • • • • • • • •

P
inky was barely gone before Mark Weston stopped by. He was out of uniform, dressed casually in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, more like the Mark I remembered. I sometimes wondered why he and Erin had never married. He’d be a great catch by most people’s standards. Above average height—five foot ten, lean and muscular, attractive features, especially his sky blue eyes.

He glanced around the shops. “You’re here alone? Where’s Pinky?”

“I sent her home. Not much going on this afternoon.”

He sat down on the chair Pinky had vacated. “Clint was smart not to release your name to the media, and there haven’t been any big leaks yet so it keeps the gawkers at bay. But when word gets out, people will be flocking in here big-time.”

“Really? Like, they want to see what a person looks like after they’ve had a traumatic night in the park, or what?”

“Guess so.” Mark crossed his arms on his chest. “I sure didn’t think you’d be at work today, not after everything that happened.”

I sat down on the stool behind the counter. “I was just telling Pinky that last night seems like a dream—actually, a nightmare. I wouldn’t have wanted to hang around the house by myself all day, thinking about it.”

“I can see your point. I wouldn’t, either.”

“So were you and Clint busy talking to Jerrell Powers’s friends and family members this morning?”

Mark’s eyebrows rose. “Me? Nah, that was just Clint. He was up at the crack of dawn, determined to crack the case. I had my regular shift.”

“But you did tell my parents, and Erin, and Pinky.”

Mark raised his right hand. “Guilty as charged.”

“Pamela Hemley and her sister stopped by all upset and said the assistant police chief had questioned them. Then I returned a call to May Gregors, who was not quite as upset and said the police had talked to her. I didn’t ask which officer. She wasn’t exactly sad Jerrell was dead.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s what she said. So what are your thoughts on the whole deal?”

“I’m deferring this one to Clint. He’s mostly looking for that Benjamin Arnold. And we haven’t gotten the official autopsy report. That’ll be a day or two yet, or so I’m told. I know they performed it this morning and have some initial findings, but I’m not authorized to say anything.”

“That’s understandable. And I personally don’t care if I ever hear those details.”

“No need for you to.”

He was right. I’d had a close-up view of the victim and saw what had likely caused his death. “Mark, this isn’t exactly police business, but May is missing some of her snow globe–making supplies.”

“Is that right? She had a lot of stuff. How could she even know her exact inventory?”

“I have no idea. Just telling you what she told me. Pinky and I looked, but we didn’t find anything in her shop. I told Pam and Lauren about the missing items, and wanted to call the others who were here, but Pinky didn’t think that was a good idea.”

He frowned. “Why’s that?”

“She didn’t want them to think we were accusing them.”

“Yeah, it might seem like that, and the stuff may turn up after all. No one in the group struck me as a thief, but that doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t. Pinky’s probably right about dropping the issue.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it some more.” I got up and pointed to the decanter on Pinky’s counter. “Go ahead and help yourself to a cup of coffee or something.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got some things to take care of. Hey, do you want to do something later on, so you don’t have to be alone?”

All my friends were thoughtful. “Thanks, but I’m having dinner with the whole family.”

“Your
whole
family? You better bring your earplugs.” Mark gave his forehead a bop with the heel of his hand.

I reached over and gave his forehead a mild bop of my own. “It’s not that bad.”

“That’s because you’re used to it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m gonna run, so I’ll catch up with you later, Cami.” He got up and headed for the door.

I smiled and waved. He gave a nod on the way out.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

I
t was not two minutes later that Archie walked into Pinky’s shop. I had to wonder if all my friends had decided someone should keep me company today. Like the old telephone game; as each one left he or she called the next one, and so on. I went into Brew Ha-Ha to wait on him.

“I heard you found that no-goodnik in my park last night.” Archie talked about all the city parks like they were his personal property. “Sorry you had to go through somethin’ like that. I know with all I saw when I was in the war, those kinds of things are hard to forget. You put ’em out of your mind and they pop back in.”

I walked over and rested my hand on his shoulder blade. “Thanks, Archie. I’ll be just fine with all the support from my family, and friends like you.”

The expression on his wrinkled face was earnest when he turned it toward mine. “You know you’re almost like a daughter to me.”

“I know that, and thank you.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze then went behind the counter. “So, how about we have a cup of something and sit and talk for a while?” I glanced up at the Betty Boop clock and saw it was thirty minutes until closing. “What can I get you?”