Chapter 11

I chose to lie.

After all, talking about a ghostly murder victim and a returning spectral cat wouldn’t make anyone feel better about my credibility.

“It wasn’t anything all that dramatic,” I said, trying to downplay my involvement in investigating Summer’s and Silas’s murders.

“We both know better than that,” she said. “Do you think there’s a chance that Stick will still want this?”

“I doubt it.” I pointed to the twenty as I said, “At least you got paid for it.”

“More’s the miracle still,” she said. “What am I supposed to do with all of this food?”

“You could always join me,” I said.

My friend looked around her café, and she must have seen that her patrons were all happily eating and otherwise occupied at the moment. Celeste grinned at me as she said, “You know what? I think I’ll do just that.”

After she took the first bite of one of the burgers, she said, “Justine might take a few risks in the kitchen every now and then, but she can make a burger like nobody’s business. What’s with your lunch date, anyway?”

“I already told you. He just took off all of a sudden for no reason that I could see.”

“We both know better than that,” Celeste said as she pointed a French fry at me. “Why were you two eating together in the first place?”

“I don’t suppose I could get you to accept that it was just all one big coincidence, could I?”

“Not in a million years. Come on. Spill.”

“As a matter of fact, it was about something that Summer Bentley told me just before she died,” I said, and then I quickly took another bite of my hamburger.

That certainly got Celeste’s attention. She put the burger down on the plate, and then she looked steadily at me before she spoke again. “Christy, what are you up to?”

“Why do I have to be up to something?” I asked, and then I shoved a pair of French fries into my mouth before I said anything else.

“We haven’t known each other a long time,” she said, “but I still know you better than that.”

I took a deep breath, and then finally, I said, “Celeste, I have a hunch that Silas and Summer didn’t die by accident.”

“Are you saying that it was murder?” she asked me in a soft voice.

“I think so, and the sheriff’s quietly digging around a little, too.”

“So you decided to solve the case on your own, just like you did the last time.” Celeste was obviously referring to my investigation into Cora’s and Midnight’s murders. “Don’t bother denying it. Suddenly everything all makes sense. I suppose that you’ve wrangled Lincoln into your investigation again too, haven’t you? That’s why you took him to the Bentley auction in the first place.”

“Actually, at the time, it was more of a social engagement than anything else,” I said, and then I suddenly felt my face blush a little. Why did admitting that seem to bother me?

“But it didn’t end up that way, right?”

“Lincoln just happened to be there at the time,” I said. I wouldn’t hesitate to ask him for help if I needed it, but I hated dragging anyone else into my investigations. Marybeth had offered her services as well, and I had to wonder if half the world secretly wanted to be an amateur sleuth.

“Sure he did,” Celeste said. “I get all of that, but what’s your stake in this case?”

I decided that I’d found a good cover story, so why not stick to it? It wasn’t as though Summer could deny that we were friends to anyone but me. “Summer and I were just beginning to become friends.”

“I can see that,” Celeste said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Sure. You both have that inquisitive nature that’s bound to get you into trouble. So, what can I do to help? Did Stick do it? Is that why he rushed out of here? You didn’t just accuse him of murder in my café, did you?”

“Slow down. I don’t know who did it yet, and I’m certainly not ready to accuse anyone of anything,” I said, trying to calm her down a little.

“But he’s a suspect in your mind, right?” Celeste asked eagerly.

“Among others,” I admitted.

“Why do you think that he might have done it?” she asked me. It was clear that Celeste wasn’t above an idle speculation or two of her own.

“I don’t feel comfortable going into too many details until I have more information,” I said, and then I took another bite of my burger.

Celeste wasn’t the least bit deterred by my comment. “At least tell me who else is on your list.”

I started to say no as a knee-jerk reaction, but then I decided that Celeste just might be a font of information about the other folks on my list. She’d lived in town forever, and besides, at one time or another, I was sure that practically everyone within a hundred-mile radius had eaten a meal at her café. What could it hurt to just share the other names with her? She would be discreet if I asked her to keep our conversation quiet.

“You won’t breathe a word of this if I tell you, right?” I asked.

She crossed her heart with her right index finger and thumb. “You have my word.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “I won’t tell you exactly why these folks are on my list, but I’m looking at Stick, Jan Billings, Jack Baron, and Bud Lake.”

Celeste whistled softly. “Wow, that’s quite the roster you’ve got there.”

“It was even longer earlier,” I said, “but I’ve struck two names off of it already.”

“Tell me,” she said eagerly.

I didn’t see any reason to drag Lucy and Myra through the mud, since I was now fairly certain that neither of them had done it. “There’s no reason to since I’ve cleared them both, at least for now. Let’s focus on the names I have that are still active suspects. What do you know about them?”

She was about to speak when Sam Weatherall approached the cash register and looked around. Celeste held up one finger as she told me, “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

“Remember, this is confidential,” I said as she stood up.

Celeste crossed her heart again as she grinned. “I promised, remember?”

It was the best that I could ask for. If I was going to trust other people in the course of my investigation, I had to take them at their word. Otherwise, I’d just have to slog through my detective work by myself, with no help from any outsiders. That would be a lonely way to conduct a search for the real killer. As a matter of fact, it would be a poor way to live in general. In all of the times that I’d trusted people in the past, I had only been disappointed in the results on a few occasions, but I couldn’t let that keep me from ever trusting anyone else again.

Frankly, I’d rather have a little heartache in my life than bitter loneliness.

Celeste came back soon enough. “Sorry about that,” she said as she cleared our dishes away. I’d finished my burger and most of my fries, but she’d barely made headway into one of her hamburgers. “I’ll just clean this up, and then I’ll be right back.”

Celeste emptied the plates into the trash, and then I watched as she put them into a plastic tub. As she did, Justine came out of the back waving her metal spatula in the air. “What was wrong with those burgers, anyway?”

“Nothing,” Celeste said quickly. “They were wonderful.”

Justine snorted as she peered down into the trashcan. “If they were so good, why did you just have to throw out so much food?” She looked around the dining room, and her gaze stopped on me. “Christy Blake, you love my hamburgers. What was wrong with this one?”

“I ate just about every bite of it,” I protested.

Justine frowned as she turned to Celeste. “Is that true?”

“It is,” she admitted.

“Well, I know that Stick Oakhurst didn’t throw out a single bite, so what happened?”

“He had an emergency, so he had to leave before he could eat,” I said quickly, trying to save Celeste from her cook’s wrath.

“It must have been pretty important,” she said. “Why didn’t you order the meatloaf? Christy, you love my meatloaf.”

Now I was on the spot. I didn’t want to place the blame on Celeste, but I wasn’t all that keen on lying to Justine, either. I could see that Celeste was about to confess though, so I decided to throw myself on the grenade. “I just wasn’t in the mood for meatloaf today,” I said loudly before Celeste felt as though she had to respond.

Justine surprised us both when she said, “It’s just as well. To be honest with you, you made a good choice. I put way too much cumin and garlic in this batch. I thought the combination would enhance the flavor, but it overpowered it instead.” She frowned for a second before she asked, “How could you possibly know that, though?” Justine sniffed the air once, and then she said, “You can smell it in the air, can’t you?”

As a matter of fact, I couldn’t. Instead of lying outright, though, I said, “Sorry,” and left it at that.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” Justine said. In a louder voice, she announced, “Meatloaf is off the menu today.”

Caleb Lance, an older gentleman who loved a good joke, said, “That’s too bad. From the way that you just described it, it sounded perfect.”

“Then you can have it all to yourself, with my compliments,” Justine said. “I’ll wrap it up for you.” As she turned to go back to the kitchen, she added, “Now don’t you go anywhere. I’ll be right back. And I want you back here in an hour, and I’d better smell that garlic on your breath.”

“You will,” Caleb said morosely.

Justine was back in a flash with a rather substantial-sized doggy bag. “There you go. I’ll see you soon, Caleb.”

“Bye,” he said as he slid a five under his plate and carried off the spoils of his humor.

After he was gone, Justine’s laugh rocked the place, and we all shared our own relieved smiles. “That man has got to learn not to joke with the people who prepare and serve his food. He reminds me of my uncle Benny. Benny would go to the most outlandish lengths to make a point. One time he wore flippers and goggles into town after a particularly heavy rain.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Celeste said, playing along.

“He’d have probably gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for the reins he had in his hands.”

“What did he say they were for?” Celeste asked.

“Well, Benny claimed they were for the sea horse he had parked outside of town. He claimed to ride it in after the water crested over his roof.”

“And nobody believed him?” I asked.

“That was the heart of his problem; nobody ever believed him. When he actually won a million dollars in the lottery and moved away, it took the mailman a year before he trusted it and actually started forwarding his mail to his new address. The joke ended up being on Benny then, too, though. His winning check came in the mail, and he didn’t get it until a year later.”

Justine, satisfied with telling the story, returned to her kitchen, and Celeste rejoined me.

As she sat down, I said, “Justine is one of a kind, isn’t she?”

“She has her quirks, but she can surely work a grill like no one that I’ve ever had. Now, about those names you mentioned earlier. I have some thoughts, if you’re interested.”

“You bet that I am,” I said.

“Okay, here goes. Jan Billings is the only heir, and while I don’t know the woman very well personally, I understand why she’s on the list. Stick is a bit of a stretch, though.”

“You don’t see him as a killer?”

“It’s not that. I’m sure that if he thought he had a good enough motive, he could do it. I just don’t see him moving a hay bale. The man was born lazy, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll die that way as well.”

“Then you’d mark him off the list, if you could?”

Celeste thought about that for a few moments. “I wouldn’t go that far. If there was enough money, or any reward, in it for him, I wouldn’t put it past him, as sad as that is to say about someone that I know.”

“What about the other two men?” I asked, hoping to get the information out of Celeste before duty called again.

“Yes, I can see Jack and Bud both doing it. I’ve never been a fan of either man, but their motives would be a lot different if it turned out that one of them did it.”

“How so?” I asked.

“It’s been said around town that Jack would kill his own grandmother if there was profit to be made from it, but for Bud, it would have to be personal. That man can hold a grudge like nobody I’ve ever known. It’s pretty clear that after what happened between Bud’s son and Summer, he could have felt justified doing anything.”

“So then, all four people have to stay on my list of suspects,” I said.

“They should. Christy, it suddenly occurs to me that I’m not very good at this. As I considered each name that you gave me, I found myself convinced that they were guilty, each in their own turn. How do you do it? It must be awful, thinking up reasons people might do bad things to each other.”

“I try to focus on the justice of it,” I said. “I’m not looking for revenge. I just don’t want to see anyone getting away with murder.”

“Yes, I can understand that. Well, all that I can say is good luck. If I run across anything that I think might help, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

After I paid my bill, I walked back over to Memories and Dreams, wondering where my investigation would take me next.

I didn’t have all that long to find out, though.

Jack Baron was standing there waiting for me to open as I walked back toward the shop.