The following morning…
Mondays were the busiest days in the Starlight Cafe. The regulars—there were about five of them now—would drop by to pick up coffee to go, or have a quick breakfast before they headed into work. After that, there would be dribs and drabs of customers all the way up to lunch. The highlight of my day was always when Gran or Sue stopped by to visit.
But they were both absent today, and Noel and Fran were having a whale of a time in the kitchen. I didn’t want to rain on their parade with my morose mood.
I sat behind the cash register, my notepad in my lap, pen poised above it.
Willow Young and Elijah Hanson might be dating? Didn’t get the chance to ask this.
Elijah Hanson seemed happy about Nora’s passing and said he wished he could thank the murderer. Tried to pass it off as a joke afterward.
Elijah doesn’t have a solid alibi and neither does Willow.
Elijah wanted Nora to back off.
I capped my pen then placed it and my notepad in my purse under the counter, frowning. I still had other suspects to interview, but my suspicions about Willow had grown in the interim. And the fact that Elijah was high up in the Bakers group and had hated Nora just as much? Interesting. Too interesting to ignore.
The bell over the cafe door tinkled, and another of my new regulars entered.
My stomach did a funky swoosh of excitement.
It was Jackson Cook! The butcher who’d argued loudly with Nora on the eve of her death. He was accompanied by his wife, Hazel, who had a habit of gnawing on her bottom lip so that it was constantly dry.
“Hi, Jackson,” I said. “Hazel. Nice to see you this fine Monday morning.”
“Milly.” Jackson spread his arms. “It’s great to see you too. We’re just dropping by for some lunch and a little something extra.”
“Oh?”
Jackson, still wearing his apron from his butcher’s shop, clean thankfully, stopped in front of the counter and dug around in his pocket. He produced a rather wrinkled cream envelope. “This is for you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I think.”
“Trust me, you’re going to like it.”
I opened the envelope, my mind instantly going back to the letter Gran had received from “Thomas Pepper” last week, and removed a thick cream page.
Dear Miss Milly Pepper,
You are cordially invited to the birthday celebrations of Mr. Jackson Cook. Please RSVP before the 5th November.
Warm regards,
Jackson and Hazel Cook.
“Oh, wow,” I said, smiling. “Thank you. I’ll definitely come to your party.”
“Our address is listed right there at the bottom. Gifts are encouraged.”
I laughed. “I’ll get you something special. This is great, thank you. I haven’t been to a birthday party in ages.” And it would be a great opportunity to find out about Jackson’s relationship with Nora Jensen.
I didn’t want to believe that the super friendly butcher was the murderer, but I had to follow the leads presented to me.
“This is going to be the party of the century,” Jackson said. “I’m getting a chocolate fountain.”
Hazel grimaced behind her husband’s back. “Are you sure about that, Jackie?” she asked. “Chocolate fountains are expensive.”
“Please, Hazel.” Jackson took a seat at a table nearest the front counter. “You know we’re not going to spare expenses for this. It’s my fortieth birthday.”
Hazel sat down opposite her husband and opened her menu, apparently opting out of the conversation.
“Don’t mind Hazel,” Jackson said. “She’s just stressed because the butchery’s so new, but I’m telling you, I’ll get the clients I need. Have you thought more about my offer, Milly?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ve thought about it, but no decisions yet. We don’t have that many meaty dishes on the menu. I’ve still got to talk to Fran and Noel about it, see what they think.”
“You won’t regret it. Free-range, organic, and economical.”
“I believe it,” I said. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”
“I’ll take one of these hazelnut syrup frappuccino things.” Jackson perused the menu.
“Just a coffee, please,” Hazel said.
“Coming right up.” I made their drinks order in silence, thinking about how I could question them without raising their suspicions too much. I delivered their drinks to them with a smile. Hazel returned it, though her eyes were a little watery.
“I still can’t believe what happened the other night,” I said. “At Nora’s place.”
“Oh, you mean the argument?” Jackson asked.
Hazel wilted. “I hate talking about this,” she said. “I still can’t believe you shouted at her like that, Jackie. That was so wrong.”
“How was it wrong? Nora was a bully, a straight up bully, and I wasn’t going to let her get away with that any longer. She’s treated you so poorly over the years.”
“No, she hasn’t,” Hazel said. “She’s tough, sure, but she’s not a bad person. Or, she wasn’t a bad person.”
“You must be one of the only people who think that.” Jackson took a sip of his frap and pressed his lips together. “This is great.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You liked her, Hazel?”
“Sure. She was the one who approved my application way back in the day,” Hazel said. “When I first started my bakery.”
“You own a bakery?”
“We do cupcakes, pies, and sweet treats.” Hazel perked up a little. “You should come by some time and try them. I think they’re great.”
I caught a slight stiffening of Jackson’s shoulders out of my peripheral vision. Did he not think his wife’s baking was any good?
“I’d love to.”
“We’re called Hazel’s Sweet Treats. Just down Baker Street.”
“I’ll check it out.” I hesitated. “Is that why you were at Nora’s party?” I had to make the conversation flow naturally while still directing it toward where I wanted it to go.
“Yeah. She invited us because I’m a card-carrying member of the Bakers group. Jackson came along as my plus one.” Hazel sounded as if she regretted that.
“Pity that Nora couldn’t stand me,” Jackson said proudly. “She thought she was the bees knees and I was more than happy to knock her down to size.”
“You know, I was the one who found her body,” I said.
Both of them gasped.
“It was horrible. The lights went out, and I was hoping to find the breakers and instead…” I trailed off, leaving the rest to their imaginations.
Making them uncomfortable would reveal interesting information. The way their body language changed and how they reacted would provide me with clues as to their real thoughts and intentions.
“Did you know the lights went out?” I asked. “I heard people walking around before it happened, but I never imagined that something as horrible as what happened to Nora was taking place in the dark.”
Hazel chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Jackson gulped down air then hit himself in the chest with a fist and let out a burp.
“I had no idea,” Jackson said. “Thing is, we were asleep, isn’t that right, honey?” That came out forceful.
Hazel nodded. “Yeah. We went to bed after dinner was served. I read for a while and then dropped off. We woke up to the police knocking on our door.”
“That Detective Freedman is a piece of work,” Jackson said, a growl in his tone. “A real wannabe tough guy. Thinks that he can tell people what to do and how. He didn’t even ask us that many questions.”
“I think he asked plenty,” Hazel said. “But I didn’t like him much either. He was so full of himself.”
Jackson clicked his fingers and pointed at his wife. “That’s exactly right. He thought he had all the answers before he even asked the questions. Kept asking me about that stupid argument I had with Nora earlier in the evening. As if an argument could be related to her murder. What kind of crazy person stabs a woman in the back over a disagreement?”
Did Detective Freedman let slip that Nora had been stabbed in the back.
“If we don’t stop talking about stabbings and violence, I don’t think I’ll ever eat again.” Hazel touched a hand to her stomach.
“You’re right,” I said. “This is a grim topic. I’ll leave you guys alone to browse the menu. Just shout if you need anything.”
I left them to their muted conversation and returned to the counter, mentally noting their alibis for later dissection. They had both been asleep in the same bed, but that wasn’t an impenetrable alibi by any stretch of the imagination.
There was so much more to this case than I’d anticipated.