Chapter Ten

Ding.

The brownies. I stumbled to my feet, grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled the tray from the oven.

Infuriating man. My anger grew as I whipped up a batch of chocolate buttercream frosting for the brownies while they cooled. I like everything iced, so sue me.

I went about boxing them up in groups of six, intending to carry out my plan no matter how annoying the edict from His Holiness was. Brownies were currency in Snowy Lake and the murderer would know they were fine to eat.

Picking up the stack, I exited the kitchen, heading for Thor. One night to solve the mystery before Granny came home and I couldn’t afford to waste a second.

First up, Boyd Thompson. I drove toward his car dealership, Boyd’s Wheels, keeping an eye out for Ace. The last thing I needed was him noticing me snooping around. I hoped my cover of brownies would divert suspicion, but our most recent interaction suggested not. His warnings hadn’t exactly been unclear.

The lot was still open, as it was every Friday night. Boyd was the kind of man to know that as the festival closed, people would mosey on over to have something else to look at before calling it a night. A family was enjoying ice-cream cones as they drifted around the lot, followed closely by a salesman. I pulled in alongside Boyd’s Lexus and switched off the motor. Grabbing a box of brownies by the string, I climbed out and took a deep breath. The odors of fair food lingered in the evening air, stirring up my hunger again. I promised myself a brownie later, though my pangs argued for one now. Hopefully I’d be having two or three in celebration of knowing the identity of the killer.

I hurried through the front sliding glass doors, intent on making a beeline for Boyd’s office. I nodded at the employee coming out, whose eyes widened on seeing me.

“Evening, Shirley.”

She smiled tentatively and kept walking away.

I entered Boyd’s spacious office. The walls were covered with photos of him and different people, shaking hands over the buying of a vehicle. All locals. Boyd knew his audience. Everyone liked to be appreciated and hung on his wall of honor.

“Charm McCall.” He looked up from his laptop and set his coffee cup down, his eyes alert and calculating. Of course, he’d have seen me coming on the lot monitor. “What a nice surprise. And you’ve brought me something, I see.”

I handed the box of brownies over, the odor of his favorite almond roast coffee lingering in the air. “Your favorite treat, triple chocolate brownies with buttercream frosting.”

“Mighty sweet of you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Did the new constable finally catch up with you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He talk with you as well?”

“Why would he be interested in me? It was your jam that was laced with poison.”

I swallowed down the sour bile and pasted a smile on. “He’s talking with everyone who saw Mrs. Hurst on her last day. And that puts you squarely on the list.”

“Yeah, well, I had a legitimate reason for being there.” He smoothed his bad combover. “Mrs. Hurst was looking to order a new car.”

“She get around to signing a deal?”

“Not sure that’s any of your business. But as it happens, no. For the best really, now that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, not much call for the dead to drive.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Was there anything else? I do thank you for the brownies.”

“Thinking of buying a new vehicle myself.”

“Ah, do you think the timing is right?”

“Why, because I’m also on the list of suspects?”

“I would say it’s a bit more than that, Charm. I had a good reason for seeing Mrs. Hurst and I did not harm a hair on that dear lady’s head. I didn’t lace my jam with arsenic or cyanide or whatever poison you used.”

“Excuse me.” This was going too far. ‘“Dear lady’s head.’ Why, Boyd Thompson, I’m surprised your head doesn’t explode.”

“I have to ask you to leave my office now. I won’t stand for this slanderous talk. I thought more of you than this. Why, if your granny was here, she’d be horrified at what you’re suggesting.” His eyes squinted at me, his mouth twisted up in a silly way. Pompous idiot.

My legendary streak of patience must have ended without my knowledge.

“Boyd Thompson.” I stood. “Tell me what happened. Did you do something to Mrs. Hurst?” I moved around the desk. He was now standing as well, his expression wary. I moved in closer, grabbed his arm and closed my eyes to get a reading.

A vision came firing into my brain, making me shudder. I held on, trying to see what he was seeing. Yes. Think about Mrs. Hurst…

“Miss McCall, what do you think you’re doing?” A thundering, commanding voice made me let go of Boyd and stagger backwards.

Oh-oh, crap on a cracker. Constable Ace Collins stood in the doorway, looking thoroughly pissed-off.

“Just trying to get to the truth,” I whispered. Not able to look away from the outraged Mountie, I stood and stared, beyond horrified. Being found out so soon did not bode well for the rest of my plan. Abort. Abort.

“And what did I warn you of not even an hour ago?”

“To say out of your investigation. That you had it handled.”

“I thank you, Officer, for coming by. I was just asking this woman to leave and she was not willing to.”

“Are you wanting to press charges, Mr. Thompson?”

“Charges!” Equal parts horrified and angry, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the two imbeciles. I must have dreamed the kiss. This was as far from that divine experience as humanly imaginable.

“No, I just want her to leave.”

“Good, then we see eye to eye. Miss McCall, if you would?” His Holiness held out a hand to me that I studiously ignored, making a point of walking around the desk and pushing past him to get into the showroom. The zing of electricity I got touching Ace did not help my mood.

I walked stiff-legged out into the warm July weather, enjoying the slight breeze that cooled my overheated skin. I spun round soon as I heard him behind me.

“You just had to follow me. Stalk me like…like…a darn Mountie!”

“Sorry, ma’am. Just doing my sworn duty.”

“That Sheriff Taylor from Mayberry sh—stuff doesn’t work on me.”

“You couldn’t use a bad word if your mouth was full of it.”

“And that’s a bad thing? The world is going to hades in a handbasket—”

“Now who’s acting all Miss Goody Two-shoes!”

“Phhht.”

“Back at you, Miss McCall.”

We glared at each other, unminding of our audience.

“Okay, let’s calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“I can see that.”

“How about we sit in your jeep and discuss this? It will be less obvious than using the patrol car.” He nodded toward the interested parties watching the sparks fly.

“Fine.”

I crawled into my side and stared out of the windshield, not seeing much of anything except the color red.

“What were you thinking? Going in there after I explicitly warned you to stay out of my investigation?”

“I needed to know if he did it.”

“And did he?”

I turned, venturing a peek at him. He genuinely seemed to want to know, under his very pissed-off Mountie look.

“Inconclusive. He hated her enough. They’d had some kind of long-standing beef. But I can’t say for certain.”

“I’ll look into it. Now, will you leave this alone?”

I bit my lower lip to keep from saying the exact wrong thing. One of my specialities.

“Tell me how to get through to you? For such an intelligent woman, you can be so headstrong.”

“Okay.” I asked through stiff lips, “Do you think I did it?”

“What?”

“Do. You. Think. I. Did. It?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, then gave me a rueful glance. “Truthfully, no. I don’t think you have murder in your heart. At least not for a townie.” His look suggested for a non-townie I might be provoked into the act. He might be right.

A rap on the window right beside my face made me jump halfway out of my seat. I placed a hand over my heart, rolling down the glass with a few twists of my wrist.

“Tulip. What’s up?”

“Ah, you’re needed back at the café. There’s an important meeting you should attend.”

“A meeting?” I stared at her, noticing the high color in her fair cheeks and her slightly disheveled hair from sprinting across the parking lot. She must have run all the way, I couldn’t see her little Volkswagen bug any where.

“Yeah, there’s a consortium gathering to prevent the strippers from working at the Boots & Lace.” Her expression suggested I needed to get with it. “I said they could meet at our place. Thought it might be good for business.”

“You thought right. Good call.” I couldn’t have cared less either way about the strippers doing shows to anyone over the age of majority. However, it was best to insert ourselves in the midst of the fray and try to steer it if it went south.

“Can we finish this later?” I asked brightly as Tulip came around the back of my jeep to wait for Ace to step out.

“I think we are finished for now. You go to your meeting, stay out of my business and all will be well. Deal?”

I didn’t dare look at him. I nodded once, the skin prickling on the back of my neck. I wasn’t into his business. I was into my own and no one need be the wiser if he took it the wrong way.

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to host that meeting. Sounds like it might contain fireworks, but I’m sure you can handle it. Call me if it gets out of hand.”

I chanced another look and found him grinning widely at me.

I watched him climb out of my jeep, his tight gluteus maximus on display in his well-fitted jeans. Phhht, the guy was just too, too—what was the right word? Yes. Just too much.