The next morning, I was up early, making a chicken Alfredo casserole. I had decided last night that a good plan would be to talk to Dale about who might want to see his wife dead. I didn't want to go to his house empty-handed, so I decided to make a casserole that I had actually never made before, but my mother had made a lot in instances like these. It was definitely comfort food, and who didn’t like comfort food?
Cooper had left early this morning; I thought he worked harder now than he did when he owned Sands Security, but he seemed to like it and that was all that mattered. I thought he made a great mayor.
"You're cooking awfully early," Willie said as he came down to the kitchen with his laptop, set it on the table, grabbed a cup, and filled it with coffee.
"I'm making a casserole."
"A casserole? At eight o'clock in the morning?" he said, raising his eyebrows before having a seat and flipping the lid on his laptop open.
"Shouldn't you be going for a run or something?" I said and glared at him.
"I've already gone for my run, I will have you know, and now I'm going to look for a place to live."
"You don't have to do that just because Cooper and I are moving, or my parents are coming home. There is still plenty of space for you."
"I know. And I appreciate your hospitality this far. However, if I'm going to stay here permanently, I need to find a place to live permanently. I can’t sponge off you all forever."
"I don’t know. Your blueberry waffles kind of make it worth having you here,” I said, turning to give him a teasing grin over my shoulder. “Seriously though, I know it's important to have your own space. I'm just so glad you decided to stay here. I think you'll be really happy."
"I can definitely see why you and Cooper like it here. As someone who was born and raised in the city, I never really thought about living anywhere else. This is very different, and I like it. Heck, I've only been here a few months, and people recognize me at Betty's and the Uptown Café. Makes me feel special,” he said with a lopsided grin.
"The small-town community is nice. Most of the time. Though growing up I could never get away with anything. All the parents talked with each other, and it was impossible to keep things from them."
Since I had to wait for the casserole to cook, I decided to grab my laptop from where it was charging on a small table in the corner of the kitchen. I brought it back to the table where Willie was sitting, along with my coffee. I went to Google and typed in the name Susan Meriwether. We no longer had a town paper, but I expected that one of the neighboring towns that still had such a thing might have an article on what had transpired. There were a couple articles on what had happened, but they didn't say anything more than I already knew. Which reminded me, I needed to follow back up with Trevor to see if he had heard anything. I grabbed my phone and shot off a quick text and then turned back to my laptop. There was an article from our now defunct paper on Susan's teacher of the year award last year, and then an article with the title, "Another One Bites The Dust." I clicked on it.
"What the heck is this," I said out loud, because I was surprised at what was on my screen.
"What?" Willie said, looking over his laptop at me.
"There is an article about Susan posted on a website I've never heard of called Granny Gossip."
"Granny Gossip?" Will repeated.
"Yep. It says on the About Us page that Granny Gossip is for those who care about news and gossip in Hunter's Hollow. It looks like this article is the first one."
"What does it say?"
"’What's going on in Hunter's Hollow?’" I read to him. "’Susan Meriwether was the most recent resident of Hunter's Hollow to meet an untimely end. Susan was a revered kindergarten teacher, although a little obsessive about flowers, and an all-around nice person. Even if she wasn't, she didn't deserve to die. Sheriff Blackford has his hands full with keeping the people of Hunter's Hollow safe. What about the new mayor, Cooper Sands? Is he up to the challenge?’ Then it goes on to talk about recent events in Hunter's Hollow but nothing that really pertains to Susan."
"That's interesting," Willie said. "Seems like someone is trying to fill the void of the paper."
"I wonder if Cooper has seen this. I should probably send him the link. Whoever this is didn't talk badly about Cooper, but they did question if he was up to the challenge of keeping the town safe. I don’t like that."
"I would be surprised if he didn't already have it. Tobey seems to be on top of that stuff."
"True. Tobey is definitely on top of that kind of stuff. I'll send it to him anyway," I said, and picked up my phone. I saw that Trevor had texted me back saying, 'call me'. I quickly copied and pasted the link to the article in a text to Cooper and then called Trevor.
"I can only talk for a second," he said when he answered in whisper. "I just wanted to tell you something, but you didn't hear it from me."
"I will never divulge my sources," I said, and he knew I meant it.
Keeping my sources of information confidential was something that got me in hot water more than once with Sheriff Blackford, and I could see Willie looking at me and shaking his head. He didn't like it any more than Cooper when I nosed my way into business that they felt was none of mine. I couldn’t help it. I felt compelled to help people.
"The preliminary results from the coroner is that Susan died from a heart attack probably brought on by the fear and stress of being locked in the cooler."
"If she was locked in that cooler on purpose and died as a result, even if it wasn't from the temperature in the cooler, that is still murder."
I could see Willie's eyebrows raise.
"That is what Sheriff Blackford is treating it as. Listen, someone is coming, I have to go. Talk to you soon."
I set the phone down and looked at Willie. "The sheriff is treating it as a homicide. She had a heart attack after being locked in the cooler."
"Since the coolers do have safety releases and someone tampered with it, that makes it look intentional. I guess Granny Gossip was right. Sheriff Blackford is going to have his hands full."
"Are you going to ask him for a job?" I said, briefly changing the subject although my mind was more on Susan.
"I'm not sure yet. It's one of my options."
I wasn't going to bug him anymore about his living situation or job status, but I did spend a little more time digging around on Google, looking for any information I could find on Susan Meriwether. Except for teaching accolades, there was nothing. She didn't even seem to have social media accounts. Finally, the timer went off, signaling that my casserole was done. Getting it out of the oven was no easy feat, since both Bella and Topknot could smell the yummy goodness when I opened the oven door and somehow both thought they needed a bite.
"Back up, you two. I don't want to burn you," I said, shooing them back so I could open the door all the way. I set the casserole on the stovetop, closed the oven door, and watched the bubbling cheese on the top. Hopefully, it tasted as good as it looked.
"Are you going to be home most of the day?" I asked Willie.
"I plan to. I told Cooper I would mow the lawn for him."
"That's nice of you. Do you mind if I leave Bella and Topknot with you?"
"Of course not. They can help me mow the lawn."
"Good luck with that." I put foil over the casserole and put it in a wooden picnic basket. The pan was still pretty hot, so I knew it would burn anything plastic, but I didn't want to wait until it completely cooled in order to go over to Dale's.
"Have a good day," I said to Willie and leaned down to pet Bella and pat Topknot on the head.
"Where did you say you were going with that casserole again?"
Willie knew full well I hadn’t said anything. "I'm taking it to Dale Meriwether. He’s just lost his wife, and I thought it was the neighborly thing to do."
Willie snorted. "You mean the nosy thing to do."
"I won't dignify that with an answer," I said, giving a toss of my hair in mock indignation, then grabbing the picnic basket, along with my purse, I headed out to the car.
The Meriwethers lived out in the country about a twenty-minute drive from us. I had been out there a couple of times to meet with Susan about the Fall Harvest Festival, and it felt a little weird going out there and her not being there. If I felt this way, I couldn't imagine how hard it was for Dale. Even though I did want to ask him some questions, I felt bad for him. I hoped he had calmed down a little, for his own health.
When I turned into the driveway, I didn't see any cars, but assumed they were probably in the garage. Maybe I should have called first to make sure he was home, but I didn't want to give him the chance to tell me not to bother to come.
I parked the car and grabbed the picnic basket out of the back, brushing off a couple of dog hairs from the outside. No matter how much I vacuumed my car, there was always a dog hair or two, and sometimes a random duck feather. Such was the life of a pet owner.
I reached the front door and rang the doorbell. I could hear the bells sound throughout the house. A few seconds later I heard footsteps, and then the door opened. Dale looked like he was still in his pajamas and his hair was disheveled.
"I didn't know you were coming by," he said in a cranky tone.
"I'm sorry. I know I should have called first. I’m sorry. I brought you a casserole in case you don't feel up to cooking, and my mom said to send her condolences and let her know when the funeral was."
As I stood on his front porch, I wondered if he was going to ask me in. I also wondered if he was comprehending anything I was telling him. He seemed to be in a daze. His eyes were glazed over and not focusing very well. I almost wondered if he had taken medication. He was a little out of it.
"Are you okay, Dale? Can I make you some coffee or something?"
When he still didn't answer—it was like his brain wasn’t comprehending what I was saying—I decided to take matters into my own hands. I walked by him into the house, shutting the door behind me and finding my way to the kitchen, him trailing along, still not saying a word.
"Have a seat at the table. Let me get you some coffee."
Dale did as I asked, and I went around the kitchen opening and closing cabinets until I found the filters and the coffee and started a pot to brew. I went into the pantry and found some bread, and put two slices in the toaster. As distraught as he was the last two times I had seen him, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't had anything to eat since before he heard about Susan. A few minutes later, I finally had some toast and a cup of coffee in front of him. I had to prompt him to eat and drink, but after he sipped a little coffee and took a couple of bites of toast, the color started coming back in his face.
"Thank you," he said softly.
"I am so sorry for what you're going through, Dale. I just want to help if I can."
"I appreciate that. Will you help me find out who murdered my Susan?"