The following day...
“Nothing,” I said, adjusting my onion goggles on my face. “A big fat nothing.” I cut into an onion, my vision hazy from the repurposed ski goggles and sniffled. My makeshift defense did a great job at preventing tears, but man, onions had one heck of a strong smell when cut. If I never cut another onion in my life, I would be satisfied.
“What’s that, Charlie?” Lauren was in front of the stovetop working her magic for this afternoon’s lunch service.
“There’s been no new information about what happened to Brenda or the recipe book since yesterday. I can’t find any of the suspects. It’s like they’ve disappeared into thin air.”
“Hmm?”
“Georgina’s been helping me track the suspects,” I explained. “Colton Harrison and Kayla Wren. We can’t find either of them. Do you know where they are, perhaps?”
Lauren shrugged. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t heard much about either of them. I wish I could help, but I don’t know everybody in town.”
“Yeah, of course.” Just because we lived in a small town didn’t mean Lauren would know every person who’d been born in the local hospital. Gossip was small but it wasn’t that small.
“I’m sure it will work out, Charlie. If anyone can help you find them, it’s Georgina.”
And she was right about that. I continued cutting onions, slicing them thick since Lauren wanted to make hamburgers with onion rings and fries.
I settled into the rhythm of working in the kitchen. It brought me joy simply because there was a routine to it, and routine had been a big part of my life for a long time when I’d been a spy. Doing things accurately and with purpose was my favorite part of, well, of life.
And trying to fix people’s problems, whether it be finding stolen recipe books, clearing their names of a crime, or hunting down a murder, hardly ever wound up fitting the bill in that regard. It was difficult to be accurate when your suspects were MIA or refused to answer questions truthfully.
Gamma entered the kitchen, carrying a copy of The Gossip Rag.
“Uh oh,” I said. “What is it this time? More news about Belle-Blue’s judging prowess and successful business skills?”
“I see the onions have worked their magic on your mood, Charlotte.”
“Sorry,” I grumbled. “I’m frustrated.”
“We’ll find the people you’re looking for. I just need time. But for now, feast your eyes on this.” She dropped the newspaper onto the table.
“My eyes are in famine mode at the moment.” I pointed at the goggles. Luckily, I’d cut the last of the onions. I moved them over to the counter near the stove, then washed my hands, removed my onion goggles and joined my grandmother at the kitchen table.
Quinton McLarkal at large! Conviction overturned by appeals court!
And below that, a picture of a burly guy in an orange jumpsuit. He had a strong jawline and had a smiley face tattooed under one eye.
“Who is that?”
“Oh my heavens,” Lauren gasped, nearly dropping her spatula. “I remember that case. Are you serious? They overturned his conviction?”
“They have,” Gamma said.
“Who is Quinton McLarkal?” I asked.
Gamma accepted a cup of coffee from Lauren before filling me in, her chin propped in her hand. “About four years ago, before you arrived in Gossip, we had a murder case that made headline news. Quinton McLarkal was accused of murdering a local man over a fish delivery. He was a fisherman, you see, and rumor had it that he was upset that the victim was moving in on his territory. It was an open and shut case, as far as the jury was concerned. He was sentenced to life in prison.”
Lauren shivered. “I remember when it happened. Everyone was on edge. We’re used to petty crime in Gossip, but murder? Horrible.”
I bet that’s changed. There’ve been quite a few murders since I arrived in town.
“Obviously, times have changed,” Gamma said.
Lauren grimaced and started dipping the onion rings into batter.
“So what happened?”
“He appealed,” Gamma said, “and it looks like the appeals court overturned the conviction. Apparently, one of the key witnesses lied and is being tried for perjury. And the case against Quinton fell apart.”
“Did you know him well?” I asked.
“No,” Gamma replied. “I didn’t. I know a few minor details, but I never fleshed out my case file on the man since he was already imprisoned. What about you, Lauren?”
“Distantly. But I never talked to him. Honestly, I don’t think anyone knew much about the guy. He was kind of a mystery.”
“And he’s out now?” I studied the picture.
“He’s out. And probably returning to Gossip,” Gamma said. “If he hasn’t returned already.”
“As long as he wasn’t here before Monday…”
“That would be interesting to find out. But I highly doubt the first thing a freed murderer will do is kill again.” Gamma sighed. “Regardless, it’s yet another strange turn of events in an entirely odd week.”
I couldn’t help but agree. But was Quinton’s untimely release related to Brenda’s murder? It was something to occupy my time while we searched for the other suspects.
I took the paper from my grandmother and read the article, but it didn’t provide much information about when he’d been released and whether he would return. Of course, even Jacinta Redgrave, the editor of the local paper and gossiper in chief, couldn’t predict that.
The released convict’s eyes stared up at mine, blank, and I stared back, frowning.
Was it just me or did this man look awfully familiar?