Down in Flames

Savannah locked up Webb’s Glass Shop and scurried next door to Queen’s Head Pub. Officer Williams and Amanda were sitting beside each other, huddled together at the far table. It was the most remote table in the restaurant, always the last one to be filled, in front of the women’s restroom. They looked up when she got close.

“What are you two conspiring about?” Savannah asked.

Amanda lifted her head in mock horror. “We’re not conspiring.”

“Just wondering,” added Officer Williams.

“Just wondering what?” Savannah pressed.

Amanda looked at Officer Williams again, shrugged her shoulders, and looked back to Savannah. “We may as well confess, or she’ll start interrogating us.” A tilted grin briefly swept over Officer Williams’s face.

“We were wondering if you had set a date for the wedding.”

Savannah tilted her head back and lifted her fists at the ceiling. “Grr. Not you two as well? I’m having enough trouble keeping Edward and his mum at bay. Why is it so important to know the exact date?”

Officer Williams patted the surface of the table in front of an empty chair. “Sit.”

Savannah eased into the chair.

“Look.” Officer Williams spoke softly. “I know I’m not much older than you, but frankly, for a person your age, you’ve seen a fair amount of tragedy.”

Amanda piped in. “We think you should be getting on with those wedding plans.”

Savannah covered her face with her hands for a few moments, then looked at her friends. “It seems ridiculously self-centered to be planning for a wedding before we’ve even had Nicole’s funeral.”

Joy propped her head in her hands with both elbows on the table. “That’s a tender view and it shows that you were raised properly, having such a kind heart. But . . . ” Joy paused.

“I knew there was a but coming.” Savannah closed her eyes. “Say it.”

“Okay, here’s the but. You must put yourself first for a change. I really can’t see why you haven’t come to that conclusion yourself.” Joy sat back in the chair and folded her arms. “You’re a clever woman. Set. The. Date.”

“I will.” Savannah raised her right hand. “I solemnly swear that a date will be carved in stone before the end of this weekend.”

Edward walked up and stood at the end of the table. “What are you talking about?”

Amanda piped up. “We want Savannah to set the wedding date now, but she wants to wait until after Nicole’s funeral.”

“She’s promised to set a final date before the end of the weekend,” said Joy.

“You honestly think Nicole’s murder will be resolved by then?” Edward rolled his eyes. “I think you’re underestimating the complexity of the case. If it were a simple hit-and-run, it would have been resolved by now.”

“Yes, I know that,” said Savannah. Her eyes commanded silence from Joy and Amanda. Then she looked up at Edward. “Can you take a little break for a powwow?”

“Sure, I’ll be back in a second. I’ve got something new for you to try.”

“But Edward,” Savannah said to his receding back. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Is it my imagination or has Edward been spending a lot of time in the kitchen?” Joy looked at Amanda, who raised her eyebrows in agreement.

“He creates new dishes when he’s upset.” Savannah pressed her lips together. “This is at least the fourth new recipe in the last two days.”

Edward appeared with a tray containing four copper mugs of chilled cider and a heaping plate of pumpkin spice scones. “Try these. I’m thinking of having an afternoon tea. We’re not busy in the late afternoon and there isn’t anyone nearby who’s offering a proper British high tea. We would have fixed seating and strictly reservation only, so we could prepare properly and take advantage of how limited the seats would be. I think it’s a niche market that we could fill. I mean, the kitchen is already open.”

“Edward, please sit.” Savannah waved her hand at the empty seat next to her. “You’re making me crazy with all this energy. We need to focus on getting those energies working in the right direction. You have two big things to worry about right now. One is getting more staff and the other is winning the Best Burger in the Burg competition.”

He sat. “I’m sorry, I know I’m at the babbling stage. I promise to concentrate.”

“Before we get started,” Savannah began, “Jacob is avoiding coming over onto Central Avenue to pick up supplies. I think he doesn’t want to look at the spot where Nicole was hit.”

“Interesting,” said Amanda. “Maybe that’s the key to getting his memory back. Could we somehow reenact the accident?”

“Whoa, that’s a big leap into the black pit of the unknown,” said Savannah. “But I’ll bring it up with Jacob’s mother. Since he’s been taking an active interest in his recovery, maybe she will approach Jacob directly to see if he wants to take that leap.”

“Would she permit it?”

“Hard to say. I know she’s at her wit’s end with his therapist. The therapist wants to administer drugs, but Frances knows that the side effects can often be worse than the condition they’re trying to treat. Judge Underwood is leaning more toward some physical action or situation to encourage the return of his speech. I’ll bet she would be willing to help us if we set it up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Officer Williams frowned. “There’s so much that’s unknown about teenagers on the autism spectrum. They don’t make good study participants. His situation is complicated by mutism and memory loss. Jacob is the Underwoods’ only child and they’ve proven that they’re willing to move heaven and earth to help him. My guess is that she’ll wait.”

“I agree. I’m chuffed that he’s texting,” said Edward. “He’s never done that before. As usual, what we think might be comfortable for him could be the exact opposite.” He stared pointedly at Savannah. “Leave him to work this out by himself. He knows what’s good for him—none of us understand how his condition affects his thought processes. He’s the best one to oversee his recovery. We only know that he thinks very differently.”

“Okay, okay.” Savannah grabbed a scone. “You’re right. None of us are trained to handle this situation. I’ll leave it alone for a little while longer, but as soon as the painting shows up, I’m going to take it over for him to do his magic, if his mother thinks he’s up to it. I trust her instincts over any therapist. I hope he can tell us something useful about the forger by comparing SNARK’s graffiti to the painting.”

“Okay, guys, catch me up on what’s happening.” Officer Williams pulled out her notebook and pen. “I want to resolve this case as quickly as possible. I think the disastrous move from the old police building to the new one has exhausted Detective Parker’s last vestige of mortal patience. However, it has given me the chance to take on the role of principal investigator in an informal way.”

“Informal?”

“That means I get to do all the work without the pressure of being”—she finger quoted—“officially in charge.” She lowered her hands to the table and folded them in front of her. “I’m actually good with that. I personally think he’s on edge because there’s a promotion afoot. Everyone thinks he’s too young for the position, but closure rates are more important than age to the chief of police.”

Savannah sipped her hot cider, “If he is promoted, how will that affect your work situation? Do you get promoted as well? You’ve been working together pretty consistently over the past few months.”

Officer Williams put her hands flat on the table. “I can’t believe I’m saying this because you guys are usually pretty helpful, but could we get back to the case? At the end of the day, I want justice for Nicole. No matter what happens to any of us.”

“Agreed. This is for Nicole,” said Savannah. “I know your time is limited. Let’s get back on track. So, where are we?”

Officer Williams flipped back to a page in her notebook. She turned to Savannah. “Let me see. What have you found out about the connection between Nicole and SNARK?”

Savannah took a deep breath. “The connection was strong between them, but it wasn’t simply a case of Nicole wanting to learn how to paint murals. I think she was trying to figure out if he was the artist that painted a forged picture that she had given her rich uncle.”

Officer Williams squinted. “SNARK is a forger?”

Savannah nodded. “It’s possible. Nicole’s brother Phillip is bringing over the painting so that Jacob and I can compare it to his mural paintings. There should be some stylistic evidence if he is the forger.”

“Fine,” Officer Williams said. “Let me know what you come up with. What else?”

Amanda lifted her hand. “I’ve been researching the backgrounds of the organizers of the SHINE Festival and trying to determine who might have helped Nicole with finding SNARK. She must have asked them for help at some point. It’s where I thought of, first thing.”

“Did you find out anything?” asked Officer Williams.

“Not yet, but I’ve barely scratched the surface.” Amanda widened her eyes. “The SHINE Festival took off like a rocket and no one was prepared for its overwhelming success. I’m trying to track down some of the early volunteers to find out how SNARK approached them. It is completely possible that there are no records.”

Officer Williams made a note. “I can pull their paperwork from when they first applied for permits. There might be some names of the original organizers on them for you.”

“Thanks,” said Amanda.

“Meantime, I found an investigation thread regarding the trust fund.” Officer Williams scanned the room and ensured no one was near the table. She leaned forward. “Nicole’s brother Phillip may gain control if Elizabeth dies or is found incompetent. Apparently, this came about because even the uncle had concerns about the stability of Nicole’s marriage.

“Really?” Savannah sounded disappointed.

“Yes. Her uncle has been recently more focused on the details of the trust. He’d just been admitted into a rehabilitation home due to a bad interaction with the medications that he’s taking. So, he’s had more time to think about it. That’s the official reason. Personally, I think the mobility impairments go along with the progression of his Parkinson’s disease. He usually recovers—well, enough to go home in a few weeks.”

From the corner of her eye, Savannah noticed that Samuel hovered near their table, staring at Officer Williams in her uniform. Savannah tapped Edward on the arm and tilted her head toward the obviously eavesdropping cook. When Edward turned to look at him, Samuel scurried back into the kitchen. They immediately heard a great clatter of broken glassware followed by loud cursing. Edward shot out of his chair and ran into the kitchen. Savannah heard him gasp and knew this wasn’t just a matter of smashed stock. She bolted for the kitchen.

The floor was covered in broken pieces of white plates. The signature square plates had been specially ordered when Edward opened Queen’s Head Pub a little more than a year ago.

Edward stood at the back door, and Savannah rushed to join him just in time to watch the taillights of a car as it turned the corner onto the one-way street of First Avenue North. The driver was certainly familiar with the city. It was the best way to leave the area fast.

“What was that all about?” asked Savannah. “Could that have been Samuel?”

“Possibly. He’s been acting strange since he took over more of the kitchen work.”

“Which he started to do after Nicole was killed.” Savannah folded her arms over her chest. “We need to tell Officer Williams that, so she can add him to her list of suspects.”

They returned to sit at the table. “Samuel left.” Edward shook his head. “I hope he isn’t quitting. That would be the last straw. It would just about kill my chances in the Best Burger in the Burg contest. He’s been doing a lot of the preparation work. Because the contest ends on Saturday, everyone who comes in is ordering our burger.”

Savannah patted Edward on the shoulder. “It will be fine in the end.”

Edward turned to Officer Williams. “Samuel has been behaving strangely. It might be the stress of the additional hours I’ve been giving him. Of course, it could be that he’s terrified of police.”

“Has he quit his other jobs?”

Edward ducked his head and squinted. “I don’t know—I’m finding out that Nicole really ran almost everything. I’d better get myself sorted out, or this pub is going to suffer a serious problem.”

Officer Williams made another note. “I haven’t gotten around to adding his name to the list of background investigations. Argh! I hate getting behind in an investigation. What’s his full name?”

“Samuel Joven,” said Edward. “I’ll get you his address.”

“Actually,” said Officer Williams, “while you’re at it, could you get me a list of all your employees?”

He slipped out into the kitchen area and returned with a photocopy of handwritten index cards. He read off Samuel’s address to Officer Williams. “It’s one of those transient places not too far from here. I didn’t know he had a car. It must be borrowed.”

The posse disbursed, with Officer Williams leaving in the squad car, and Amanda driving her mother’s pink Cadillac to the hospice facility. Edward and Savannah stood looking at each other. Savannah reached over and took his hand.

“I’m concerned about our ability to manage two businesses within one relationship. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken on the consulting job.”

Edward shook his head and folded Savannah into his arms. “That was never going to happen. We need to know what happened and this is the way to find out.”

Savannah leaned into his body and nuzzled into his neck. “Maybe we should see a relationship therapist. I don’t want to end up in trouble over this.”

“Let’s not panic yet. I don’t think we need outside help to solve our very minor problems. We’re not crazy. Well, at least not in that way. We’re just overwhelmed, and I don’t need outsiders poking their noses into my business.”

“One way to help is have Amanda limber up her IT superpowers and do a bit more social media investigation. Her mother seems to be making another miraculous recovery.”

“That’s incredible. That lady is tough.”

“Another way I can help is to contact a staffing agency to help with the rush in the pub. But you need to stop experimenting in the kitchen. I know it’s keeping you calm but not really helping anything else.”

“You’re right. No more new recipes until this investigation is done.”

Savannah backed out of his embrace. “Thanks, honey. Now we need to figure out what frightened Samuel. I’m going to check out his place and talk to the building manager.”

“Hang on, I need to go with you. I’m his boss and I could legitimately be checking up on an absent employee.”

“True, but you need to stay here and run Queen’s Head Pub until we get you some replacement staff. Outside of classroom hours, I can simply close my shop and customers will come back for their supplies later. You simply can’t leave. It’s still daylight—I’ll be fine.”

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t like this.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be fine.”