After changing my coffee-soaked clothes and driving across town to a family restaurant known for its pumpkin pancakes, I slid into the booth and faced Rand.
“When I promised to help flip this bad turn of events, I didn’t think you were going to sabotage my efforts.”
Rand’s gaze rose from the menu to me. “What?”
“You told the media to get off your property.”
“So?”
“You weren’t nice about it.”
“They were annoying.”
“You snarled at them.”
“No I didn’t.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard a distinct growl as you swore at them.”
“Then you should’ve been there to act as the representative.”
I handed him a stack of business cards. “From now on, give all media my card.”
He inspected the cards before tucking them into his pocket. “They’re nice. When did you get them?”
“I ordered them a week ago.” I slid a box of cards to him. “These are yours.”
Rand took one out and looked at it. The barest of smiles touched his lips.
“I’m glad you like them.” Picking up the menu, I briefly scanned it then put it down. “What’s the game plan for today? Did you order the flooring?”
“It’s been ordered. Construction is down for the rest of today, but I heard we’ll be running by tomorrow.”
“Wonderful.”
He nodded slowly, his fingers tracing the box lid. “I might have been a bit of a bear these last few days.”
I stared at him.
“You’ve been helpful.”
I stared harder.
“So, thank you for sticking with me. And . . . I’m sorry.”
I cocked my head to the side to make sure it was really Rand on the other side of the table.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I wasn’t expecting an apology from you.”
“Because I’m a jerk and jerks don’t apologize?”
That sounded like a trap I didn’t want fall prey to.
“I am a jerk, and I damn well know it. I don’t apologize to many people, but you’re different and I need your help with this project.” Fingers drumming on the table, he cursed. “I need a cigarette.”
“Order first, and then go smoke. I’m not leaving until I get breakfast.”
Thankfully, the server arrived at that moment with two cups of coffee and a plate of pumpkin pancakes. She slid the plate in front of me.
He thanked the waitress with an uncharacteristic smile. When she left, he lifted a cup to his lips but stopped when he noticed me staring at him again. “What?”
“You ordered pancakes for me?”
“Don’t you want them?”
“Yes, I just didn’t expect you to know my order.”
He shrugged and took a sip of coffee before placing the mug down. Sliding out of the booth, he stood. “I’m going outside.”
I nodded, feeling very adrift. He tended to do that to me. Every time I was about to lose hope, he would do something nice. At least I knew where I stood with Brett. I understood him.
Rand, not so much.
* * *
After breakfast, I swung by the lot to see if there were any new developments. Rand had decided to go back to his apartment. He had designs to draft for his other company he owned with Brett’s father.
Parked cars lined the road as news reporters gathered in a spot near the police perimeter. I parked along with the rest and walked to where most of the spectators were located near the excavator. The dirt pile that had been there was now dispersed into smaller batches, all numbered with white markers. Forensic workers sifted through a separate mound.
Two familiar faces from the crowd walked toward me. With long, clomping strides, Bob and Mac reached me within a few moments.
“Did you hear the news?” Mac asked, the chains on his leather jacket clanking as he scratched his beard.
“I saw the news this morning. Any new developments?”
Bob shook his head. “Nothing since they carted Hank away.”
“They released him, though, right?”
“Yeah,” Bob said. “He said he’s not coming back to the lot until this is sorted out.”
“Does he know who the dead person is?”
“He has his suspicions,” Mac said.
“Did he tell the police?”
“I think so,” Bob said, turning to Mac. “He looked rough after all the questioning, didn’t he?”
Mac nodded solemnly. “They kept him for a few hours.”
“What about Jack?”
“They talked to him briefly. Seeing as the lot was paved before he was born, they only asked him questions about Hank and Ida.”
“Ida?” I might have squeaked.
“They seemed to be more interested in Hank. But I’m sure they’ll question Ida too,” Bob said.
They looked at each other; a dark, secretive message was conveyed.
“What?” I asked. “You’re keeping something from me.”
Bob shrugged. “We don’t think Hank did it or nothing.”
“But we think he’ll take the rap for it,” Mac said.
“Why?”
“Who else would bury a guy under the new parking lot,” Bob said. “Not many people would know construction plans and such.”
“There have to be other suspects. Like the paving company.”
“We’ll see,” Bob said. The resignation in his voice worried me.
Mac nudged Bob. “I think they found it.”
Bob pulled a small pair of binoculars out of his coat pocket and brought them to his eyes. “Yeah, they just brought up a rusted container.”
I snatched the binoculars from him.
“Hey!”
It was a square box, dented and worn. Rust stained most of it.
“Do you think there’s any evidence in there?” I asked.
“If there is, Hank doesn’t know about it.” Bob took back the binoculars.
“I wonder if there’s a way we can look at the contents,” I said.
“Doubtful,” Mac said. “That thing is going to be under lock and key until after the trial. And since none of us are cops, there’s not much of a chance we’ll get to look in it.”
Brett. Would he be able to wiggle his way in through old connections?
I immediately dismissed the thought. He had other things to worry about.
But all of this new information added a potential problem. While Ida was hiding out, Hank was on the hook for murder.
* * *
The ladies gathered around the dining room table again with Mrs. Janowski at the helm, armed with a dry erase marker. A large whiteboard was positioned next to her.
“We need to switch to a defensive strategy,” Mrs. Janowski stated.
Sylvia looked up from filing her nails. “Huh?”
“The cops are ahead of us.” She tapped the marker on the board. “It’s only a matter of time before they arrest someone. We can’t let that happen. Unfortunately, we need more information—especially what’s in that time capsule.”
I raised my hand since it seemed like something I should do. Mrs. Janowski nodded for me to proceed. “I thought about asking Brett if he could find out what’s in the capsule. But once he’s involved, it’ll be impossible to get him out.”
Mrs. Janowski nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s put him on the back burner for now. Edna, what did you find out?”
She sat up primly. “No one knows Wade. I can’t find a single person who knew him. The family line ended with him. No brothers or sisters that I can find. Parents and extended relatives are dead.”
Mrs. Janowski frowned before turning to Sylvia. “What did you find out?”
“There are closed case files. I have no idea what the details are other than their listings.” She looked down at a piece of paper in front of her. “Two were for disorderly conduct and one for a domestic dispute case.”
Mrs. Janowski wrote notes on the whiteboard and then circled domestic. “Let’s find out about this one first. Did he have a girlfriend or wife?”
“Not that I’ve been able to find,” Edna said. “We’ll have to ask either Hank or Ida. But Hank isn’t answering his phone, and . . . well, we already know we won’t find Ida anytime soon.”
“I can swing by his place on my way over to Kym’s,” I said. There were Hog items I needed to discuss with him anyway. “Do we need to know anything else?”
“Yes, find out what’s in the time capsule,” Mrs. Janowski said. “Whatever’s in there could cause a real problem for Ida.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” I stood and swung my purse over my shoulder. “Right now I have to look at lighting for Rand. Then I have to meet with Jack and a kitchen rep.”
“Sneak in a few questions to Jack,” Mrs. Janowski said. “We’ll need a report on anything he might have overheard as a kid, past memories, anything.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” A few words between friends might provide something useful, but I wouldn’t press the issue.
Mrs. Janowski nodded. “Good luck. Check back in tonight.”
Tonight? I had been hoping Brett and I might go out for dinner. I wanted to scope out a bar and grill a town over. But Brett’s nights seemed to steadily grow busier. He might not even come home.
I didn’t want to sit at home with Emily.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll come over, but it might be a quick stop. I’ll text you updates until then.”
“Ten-four,” Mrs. Janowski acknowledged.
I left, knowing I had to hurry to keep all my appointments. Lighting was a mandatory first stop, otherwise Rand’s threats to fire me might hold weight.
* * *
Later that day, Jack and I met at a small Mediterranean restaurant downtown. The scent of spices and oils had me eyeing the menu with interest. Since Jack was the one who picked out the spot, I was curious to know if there was a reason behind it.
“When is the kitchen rep scheduled to arrive?” Jack asked, picking up the menu to peruse it.
“In about fifteen minutes.”
He nodded then waved the server over. “One of everything, but keep it in order. Appetizers first, entrees, and then dessert.”
The pen that she had at the ready stalled on the pad. “Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Just water.”
She turned to me with questioning eyes. “Anything for you?”
“I’ll take water as well.”
With a nod, she took off toward the kitchen.
“Hungry?” I asked Jack.
“Inspiration.”
“For the Hog?”
“Maybe a little.”
He was lying. “It has nothing to do with the Hog and everything to do with Andrea.” I stared at him in wonder. Just how far was willing to go to win their long-standing culinary feud?
He shrugged.
“I see you haven’t worked out your differences yet.”
“I tried at first. I was nice, didn’t retaliate when she became . . . Andrea.” He grimaced. “It was extremely difficult.”
“She knows what buttons to push, especially yours.”
“She pushed every single one several times.”
“And now you’re trying to outdo her?”
“There’s a contest to make an authentic meal with one significant twist. She expects to win.”
“Did you bet her?”
“A month of kitchen duty is riding on this. I have to win.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks, but I’m not sure if I’m up for it now.” He looked around the seating area, studying the large photos of white-sand beaches and turquoise water. “I suppose you heard the news.”
“About the body found at the Hog? Yeah, I heard. How’s Hank holding up?”
“He’s worried. He’s positive it’s Wade, which makes me worried. What if Grandpa becomes the main suspect?”
“What does Ida have to say about this?” I asked innocently.
“I don’t know. I left a message telling her, but she never called back.”
I nodded, already suspecting as much. “Did Hank or Ida ever tell you any stories about Wade?”
“Not Grandma. She never talked about him. But Grandpa did.”
“Anything stand out to you from those stories?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did Hank ever tell you stories that . . . I don’t know . . . Did Wade make anyone angry? Did he have a girlfriend?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Well, if you do think of something, you might want to share it with the police. It may take some heat off Hank.”
“I’ll head over to Grandpa’s later and see if he can remember anything.”
“I’m going there after our meeting. Do you want to go together?”
“Why were you going to see him?”
I twiddled a fork on the table. “Just a few questions from Rand.” There were still a few loose strings in the transfer of ownership that needed to be addressed. So while it wasn’t a lie, it felt like one.
The door opened, ringing the tinkling bell hanging from the doorknob.
“I think that’s the rep,” I said, waving at the man who scanned the dining area. When he saw me, he gave a nod and walked over.
Back to business.