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Ryan climbed into his vehicle in time to hear dispatch report a suspicious vehicle ten miles out County Road 15. That was right before Maxwell and Ruthie’s new place. He called into dispatch. “What is the description of the car?” He put his car into gear, flicked on his lights and sirens and headed as fast as he could back to Huckleberry.
“The person who called in says it is a dark blue sedan with a Washington plate. We’re running the plates now. Deputy Speaks is only five minutes away.”
“I’m headed there, too. I just learned that car is part of my homicide investigation.” He hung up and roared down Huckleberry Street and out the other side of town onto County Road 15.
He shut down the siren and turned off the lights five miles out. At nine miles, he slowed down and spotted Shandra’s Jeep sitting to the side of the road. She must have called the car in.
Ryan stopped his vehicle next to hers and rolled the windows down. “Did you call the suspicious car in?”
“Yes. It’s the one I saw go down the alley behind the diner last night.” She nodded on up the road. “Ron Speaks is up there now.”
“I’ll go back him up. You stay put.”
She nodded.
He continued up the road. Speaks had two men standing spread eagle against the side of a dark blue sedan. Ryan stopped behind the county car and walked up to help him out.
“What did you find?” Ryan asked, taking out his cuffs and cuffing the short man with scraggly long hair and a beard.
“These two refused to give their names or state their business,” Speaks said, pulling the larger of the two men away from the vehicle.
“That’s fine. We’ll print them before I question them. Take them to Huckleberry PD. I’ll be right along.”
They tucked both men into the back of the county car. Speaks drove off and Ryan snapped photos of the car, opening the doors and the trunk. He found food wrappers, empty drink cans, and glass jars and rags in the back of the trunk. There wasn’t a fuel can but the trunk reeked of gasoline and there was a stain on the carpet.
Shandra drove up as he was snapping photos of the trunk. She stepped out of the Jeep and walked over. “Did they tell you anything?”
“No. I didn’t expect them to. They have carried gasoline around in the back of this car.” His phone vibrated on his hip. Dispatch.
“Greer.”
“It’s Cathleen. We’ve identified the owner of the sedan.”
“I have too. The registration is to a Toby Brown.”
“He’s wanted for several arsons and a couple of murders in the Seattle area. It’s noted he does odd jobs for Vince Barsotti.”
Ryan had figured as much. “Thanks. I’m taking photos of the car. Send a tow truck to pick it up and have someone cut the stain out of the carpet in the trunk and send it to the lab. I’m pretty sure they’ve carried gasoline.”
“I’ll get that done. Do you plan to come over Halloween and help hand out candy?”
This was the only problem with having a sister who worked the county dispatch. She knew his schedule and life. “I doubt it. This case will keep me busy.”
“You know your nephews like to try and scare you.”
“Not this year. Maybe next.” He hung up and turned his attention to Shandra who was peering into the back seat of the vehicle.
“What are you doing? Don’t touch anything. This will be checked for prints. Someone gave the victim a ride to the wedding.” Ryan pulled Shandra away from the car and shut the door.
“They had a lot of food wrappers and containers in there. It’s like they’ve been living in the car.” She pulled out her phone.
“Who are you calling and where were you going?” Ryan asked, closing all the doors on the vehicle.
“I was headed to meet Mr. and Mrs. Aducci at the Daily Donut.” She held up a finger. “Hi Mark, this is Shandra Higheagle.” She smiled and nodded. “Please tell them I’m running behind and should be there in ten minutes. Thanks.” She pushed a button, scrolled, and poked the screen. “Hi Maxwell. The people in the car are headed to the police station. You can leave now.” She smiled. “Tell her it was for her own good. See you at lunch.”
Shandra shoved the phone into her pocket and faced him. “When I saw the car, I called Maxwell and told him to keep Ruthie at home, that I was calling nine-one-one.”
Ryan put his arm around her. “I’m glad you spotted the car and had the presence to call both Maxwell and the police. But I’m even happier that you stayed away and let the authorities handle things.” All his lecturing on letting the police handle things may have finally paid off.
Shandra smiled at Ryan. She had done some impulsive things in the past, mostly when she believed he was in danger. But today, it had been easy to stay out of the way and let the police deal with things. If the car had moved, she would have followed. She’d been on the phone with the dispatch the whole time waiting for the police.
“I need to go. Have fun questioning those two.” She strode to her Jeep and stepped up into the vehicle.
Ryan followed her. “Why are you meeting the Aduccis?”
“I read more newspaper articles on Orin Kerby’s trial and conviction and had some question for them, since they would have been here during that time.” She started the engine.
“If you learn anything, call me.” He closed the door and she gave him nod.
Now that the threat to Ruthie and Maxwell was out of the way and the people who possibly killed Mr. Kerby were at the police station, she felt as if a weight had been lifted. Miranda had invited her and Ryan to a Halloween party tomorrow night. She had a feeling they’d now be able to attend. That meant, she would need to find costumes this afternoon, since she’d put it off due to the wedding preparations.
She sped down the county road and slipped into the first parking spot she could find close to the bakery. The Daily Donut was a favorite of the locals and the out-of-towners.
Mr. and Mrs. Aducci were sitting at a small round table by the window. She waved to them and walked through the door.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” She took a seat.
Mrs. Aducci slid a cup of hot cocoa across the table towards her. “I knew you liked cocoa but did not know which donut you liked.”
“Thank you!” Shandra held the cup in her hands and sipped.
The older couple smiled and watched her. They had been like family to her ever since she moved to the Huckleberry area. The Aducci’s and their daughter Miranda had taken her in the first time she walked into their restaurant, Rigatoni’s.
“You must be curious about why I wanted to talk to you,” she started.
“We were wondering. The last time we met this way you asked about the Narvels.” Mr. Aducci, picked up his coffee cup. “Is that what you wish to talk about again?”
She nodded. “I know Mrs. Narvel was your friend.” Shandra directed this comment to Mrs. Aducci. “It’s Mr. Narvel and some people who worked for him that I have questions about this time.”
“We didn’t really spend much time with either of the Narvels,” Mr. Aducci said.
“But you lived here at the time and you heard things. The man, Ruthie Kerby’s father, who was killed this past weekend at my ranch, he worked for Mr. Narvel before he left. His brother, Orin, was Mr. Narvel’s driver. He was arrested for killing a hitman. That same night, Ruthie’s dad left, never to be seen again until Ruthie’s wedding, Saturday. There has to be a connection.” Shandra picked up the cocoa and took another sip as the couple glanced at one another.
Mrs. Aducci cleared her throat. “The Kerby brothers were nice men. They grew up in the area and helped us with some of the building of our restaurant.”
“Donald, Ruthie’s father, he helped me with the living quarters above the restaurant. He was a good builder,” Mr. Aducci said. “I told him about Mr. Narvel needing help at the big Victorian. Mrs. Kerby back then spent a lot on drinking.”
“And drugs, I heard.” Mrs. Aducci pinched her lips and nodded her head.
Shandra had an idea. “Did you ever see Donald with another woman?”
Mrs. Aducci tapped her index finger against her lips. “Yes. A couple of times, months before he left, he and Chea Small, now Timms, were in the restaurant for dinner. They always talked about Ruthie. How she was doing in school.”
An idea sprung from this. Could Chea have been Donald’s lover Ryan slipped about? He’d been speaking with her a lot and her mother had the letters for Ruthie. “So they talked about Ruthie. It was like a father conferencing with his daughter’s teacher?”
Mrs. Aducci nodded, then shook her head. “They touched a lot under the table.”
“How would you know that?” Mr. Aducci asked.
“I was the hostess and waitressed back then. You can see more than you want sometimes. They touched legs and would eat with only one hand on the table. They may have been doing more than talking about Ruthie.” The older woman glanced at her husband. “It is how I figured out there was more between our Miranda and Alex.”
Mr. Aducci snorted. “They may be married but that doesn’t mean I have to like the idea.”
His wife patted his arm. “My Silvio thinks our new son-in-law thinks too highly of himself. I tell him, the man has been taught to think that way, but he loves our daughter. That is what matters.”
“He does love your daughter. Will you be at the Halloween party tomorrow night?” Shandra asked.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Aducci.
“No,” said Mr. Aducci. “We have a restaurant to run.”
His wife waved her hand. “That is what employees are for.”
Shandra smiled and pulled the conversation back to what she wanted to know. “Do you think Orin killed the man he was accused of killing?”
Mr. Aducci shook his head. “None of the Kerbys would kill anything. I never figured out why Orin went to jail.”
“Why would a hit man be here in Huckleberry back then?” She decided to focus on the man who’d been killed.
“The only person who someone might want dead back then would have been Mr. Narvel. He ran the town and had us all working for him.” Mr. Aducci drank the last of his coffee and put the cup down. “We need to go. There is much shopping to do for a restaurant.”
“I’m sorry I kept you this long. Thank you for meeting me.” Shandra stood.
Mrs. Aducci hugged her and whispered in her ear, “See you tomorrow night.”
Shandra hugged her back.
When the couple left the bakery, Shandra walked over to the counter and bought six jelly donuts and six chocolate frosted with sprinkles. She put the donuts in the Jeep, locked it, and walked the two blocks down Huckleberry Street to Ruthie’s Diner.
On her way by Dimensions Gallery, she peeked in the window to see if her friend Naomi might be roaming about the gallery floor. She wasn’t, but her husband Ted was. He waved Shandra to come into the gallery.
She opened the big glass door and stood a moment, taking in the visual of the paintings, sculptures, and pottery that filled the gallery. Ted and Naomi Norton had been the first gallery she’d placed her work in when she moved to Huckleberry. They had become good friends and continued to showcase her work.
“Did you hear what happened to Ruthie’s last night?” Ted asked, hurrying to her side.
“I was there and saw it.” Shandra shuddered, thinking of how close she and her friends came to being caught in the fire.
“Naomi is over there now, seeing if she can help.” Ted led her to an area where the morning light streamed through the large plate glass windows. Her latest vase sat on a four-foot-tall pedestal with the light glinting off the metallic embellishments she’d added to the rim and slashed across the sides. “What do you think?” Ted asked.
“You always find the best way to show off my work.” She was pleased that the couple loved her work so much.
“We only enhance what you’ve already done.”
“Thank you. I really need to get going. I’ll talk to Naomi at Ruthie’s.” She strode out of the gallery.
Crossing the street, her heart lunged into her throat. The outside of the building that housed the diner had streaks of black coming out of the upstairs broken windows. The windows on the first floor were blackened on the inside.
People bustled in and out of the building hauling things. Many of the people she recognized as locals. All the charred furniture stood in a pile in front of the diner. Two men were throwing it in the back of a garbage truck.
She sidestepped a man carrying out charred wood.
Inside, she found Maxwell using a crowbar to pry the charred wood from the walls. Shandra spotted Ruthie through a hole in the wall between the seating area and the kitchen. She, Naomi, and Miranda were washing the pots and pans in the sink that was the only shiny thing in the kitchen.
“I’m here to help,” she said, making the three women spin her direction.
“What took you so long,” Miranda quipped.
“Oh things.” Shandra made eye contact with Ruthie. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I wish we could go upstairs and check out the living quarters, but the fire marshal and our insurance agent told us not to go up. They said the timbers and flooring could have been compromised.” Ruthie sighed. “I hope the firefighters didn’t ruin my photo albums.”
Shandra picked up a bucket. “How about you fill this with soap and water and I’ll start wiping down the appliances?”