Murder Is Our Mascot (11 page)

When she pulled up to Gabby's at 7:05 a.m., she was patting herself on the back for only being five minutes late. But then she burst out laughing at Gabby sneaking out the back patio doors like a cat burglar. She tiptoed all the way to the car, looking over her shoulder every couple of feet. She slipped into the passenger seat and silently eased the door shut.

"Got the cash?" Emily asked in a conspiratorial whisper, trying to look serious.

Gabby smacked her arm. "Ha. Ha. Just one of the perks of the job of mom. Phoebe slept much better last night, but if she or Abigail knew I was heading somewhere with their Aunt Emily, they would badger me to no end to go with us. This way, no tears, no stress."

"Whatever you say, O Wise One," Emily laughed as she pulled out of the drive.

"And here I come bearing gifts." Gabby sniffed, rummaging in the tote bag she had at her feet. She came out with a thermos and an insulated cup. "Coffee for me and Coke for you. I know how much you love mornings."

"I take back every mean thing I've ever said." Emily slapped one hand over her heart and batted her eyelashes at Gabby.

"Sure you do. But here you go anyway." Emily slurped happily away as she navigated the exit onto the interstate.

Gabby settled back in her seat and inhaled her own favorite beverage of choice. Emily tried not to be jealous of the fact that Gabby, as usual, looked glamorous and put together, the polar opposite of Emily's thrown-together look. Last night, after Emily had called the school in Peculiar Bluffs to set up a meeting with the principal, a Mr. Wells, she had laid out an outfit that she thought looked both professional and friendly. Today, her outfit of trouser jeans and a plum, shawl-collared sweater, with black, stiletto-heeled boots seemed downright dowdy next to Gabby's tailored linen slacks and coral blazer with a coordinating paisley scarf. Emily shrugged off her worries, as it was too late for wardrobe changes, and instead focused on the mission at hand.

"So what did this Mr. Wells have to say? Did he sound surprised to hear about Jim's death?" Gabby asked, shielding her eyes with one hand to better see. The temperature might be hovering around forty degrees, but the sun was a fierce competitor, battling to keep the cold at bay.

"Very," Emily nodded, checking her rearview mirror before changing lanes. "When I described the situation, he said he would be happy to meet with us. Sounds like Jim was a well-loved coach at Peculiar Bluffs too."

"Anything else?" Gabby turned fully in her seat to put her back to the sun.

"He wanted a description of who to be looking out for since we're meeting him on a Saturday."

"What'd you tell him?"

Emily kept her gaze pointed straight ahead. "I told him to expect one gorgeous woman with long, dark, curly hair—and a body to die for, despite having given birth to twins, and…" She paused as Gabby scoffed.

"What? You know it's true." Gabby shrugged and stared straight ahead too. Even when they were in their teens, Gabby had never wanted to draw attention to her looks, but that hadn't stopped the boys from drooling. Emily had always envied Gabby because she was a true stunner, but Gabby's sweetness and huge heart kept that envy from ever turning into jealousy. Now, if Gabby had been tall and well-endowed on top of her beauty, it might have been a different story, but thankfully for their friendship, Gabby was every bit as short and flat-chested as Emily was.

"All right, I might have left that last part off."

Gabby gave her a light punch to the shoulder. "So how did you describe yourself, then?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. I simply told him that I was six feet tall, have legs that won't quit, and generally look like a Victoria's Secret model."

When Gabby's mouth dropped open, Emily tried to act offended but ended up giggling instead. "Okay, I really told him I was short, chubby, and have dark, bobbed hair. Better?"

"No," Gabby grumped, crossing her arms. Emily knew what was coming next. "For the last time, Emily Grace, you are
not
chubby!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Let's go with 'not skinny.'"

"If you want to lose a few pounds, you can always start running with me. As I recall, that was one of your New Year's resolutions, right?"

"I was delusional. It was late at night. Or early in the morning. Neither time is good for me. Everyone was making absurd resolutions. I can't be held responsible for what I said during New Year's Eve mania."

Gabby merely raised an eyebrow.

Emily sighed, as if in defeat. "All right. You win. I will start running"—Gabby straightened up and beamed—"if my home is ever on fire or I'm being chased by an axe murderer." Gabby's smile disappeared, and she slouched back down in her seat.

"You're impossible," was her only response.

"Yeah. But you love me anyway. How about some tunes?" Emily knew her lazy ways were forgiven when Gabby started fiddling with the radio.

It was a perfect fall day, and they sang along to the songs they knew, humming or making up words to the ones they didn't. If they hadn't been on such a serious fact-finding mission, the trip would have had all the makings for a perfect girls' day out. Before they knew it, they were passing the city limit sign for Peculiar Bluffs. Emily followed the signs to the main thoroughfare, where the principal had told her the high school was located.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Gabby suddenly exclaimed, making Emily jump. "Sorry. I just remembered. I called Serenity Falls yesterday."

"You did? I figured you might have been too busy with Phoebe being sick and all. What did you find out?"

"Well, I wasn't sure how to play it, but—"

"Wait. How to play what? You were only supposed to be finding out how much a room there cost."

"Yeah, I know. Still, I told them that I had a mother dealing with the early stages of dementia and that my brother and I were looking at Serenity Falls as a suitable place for her."

Emily choked on a large gulp of soda. "You did not!"

"I did," Gabby answered smugly. "I didn't want them to think I was fishing for information. That seemed rude."

"Finding out a nursing home's annual fee is definitely not a fishing expedition. And if your mom knew what you'd done, she'd tan your hide." Maria Moretti, Gabby's mom, might be barely five feet tall, but her spitfire personality was legendarily grand. She was currently in perfect health and celebrating her thirty-fifth anniversary with her husband, Carl, in Rome.

"Oh, I know. That's why I didn't give my name. She would murder me in my sleep…and wow, that was a poor choice of words."

Emily grimaced. "Anyway…"

"The cost for a basic room at Serenity Falls is $72,000 annually. And I don't know about you, but I highly doubt the room Ms. Quinton was in was a basic room."

Emily was too shocked for words. "Seventy-two thousand dollars? No, I don't think that was a basic room. How in the world does Helen afford that?"

They were both silent, thinking of what this information might mean for Helen. Emily felt discouraged by the information, but she prayed they'd discover something useful in their visit with the principal of Peculiar Bluffs High School. A large stone building could be seen coming up on their right. "I think this is it," she told Gabby. The building looked old, yet impressive. She and Gabby got out and stretched their trip-weary legs.

"Check out that football field." Gabby motioned to the professional-looking stadium next to the school. "Hard to see why Coach Layton would have ever left."

"Let's go find out." Emily led the way up the stairs to the double doors. They opened before they could reach them, and a tall, skinny-bordering-on-skeletal man stepped out. "Ms. Taylor?" he asked.

Emily nodded and shook his hand, introducing Gabby next.

"Please, come into my office, and we'll talk. I'm sorry to be meeting you under such sad circumstances. Jim Layton was a great man."

As they made their way down the hall, Gabby whispered in Emily's ear, "I think he's sad we're not supermodels." Emily covered her snort with a cough, moving forward to take the chair Mr. Wells indicated.

He took a seat behind his desk and leaned forward. "I wish I had more that I could tell you. It's so hard to believe that Jim is gone. He was a beloved coach and teacher and led us to back-to-back state championships during the five years he was here. We were sorry to lose him."

"Why did he leave?"

"I was never sure. When Jim came to us from New York, he had excellent teaching references. However, it was clear he needed a fresh start. Apparently, his brother had suffered a great personal loss. He didn't discuss it with anyone, and I didn't push for particulars as he was so highly recommended. I often wondered if he was a witness to something and was trying to escape or hide."

"Can you tell us where in New York he came from?"

"I tried to look up his personnel file, but since he has been gone from the district for more than three years, it's in storage. And it is a Saturday." He gave a
what can you do
shrug.

"We understand," Gabby assured him, trying to cover up their disappointment. "Did he have any disgruntled players or parents, ones who thought their little Bobby or Johnny deserved more playtime or something?"

"No, nothing like that." Mr. Wells sounded confident. "He got along with everyone. He was friendly but never really hung out with the other teachers outside of work. They said he always seemed to have personal business to attend to on the weekends."

"What about a girlfriend?" Emily asked.

"Not that I know of, and I think I'd know. Jim was a regular customer at Elsie's Café, also known as gossip central in this town, so if Jim was seeing someone, it would have been fodder for the gossip mill there. Again, I wish I had more to tell you."

"No, no. We appreciate you meeting us on a Saturday. You've been very helpful." Emily smiled warmly, but she felt distinctly frustrated at the shortness of their visit and the lack of any new information.

"Anything else I can help you girls with?" Mr. Wells stood.

Emily and Gabby shook their heads, and Mr. Wells escorted them out. Back in the car, they both stared out the window. "So what did we learn?'

"This is the second time we've heard of Jim's brother and a loss. That can't be a coincidence. Right?"

"Right," Gabby agreed. "So where to now?"

"Don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

"Elsie's Café?"

"You read my mind." Emily plugged the eatery's name into her GPS, and they headed out.

* * *

The sign outside Elsie's Café proudly proclaimed it served the world's best pie. "My kind of place," Gabby declared as the tiny bell over the door tinkled at their arrival. Emily instantly fell in love with the 1950's diner décor. The booths were covered in a soothing aqua tone, while bright yellow sunflowers in white vases added a cheerful pop of color. They were seated in a booth by the window by a similarly cheery waitress. They both ordered waters and perused the extensive menu. "Man, they have everything here. I think I'll try the double bacon cheeseburger and fries, with more cheese," Gabby decided.

 Emily looked at her slim friend over the top of her menu. "Where do you put it?" she asked. Gabby ignored her, so she went back to trying to decide between the Philly cheesesteak and the chicken parm sandwich. By the time the waitress had made her way back to their booth, she had settled on the cheesesteak.

Emily and Gabby reviewed the little Mr. Wells had been able to tell them as they waited on their lunch. It certainly wasn't much, and while they were in agreement that the New York connection was important, they couldn't see how to tie that back to Helen. Helen had been a counselor at Ellington High for more than twenty years. She was practically old enough to be Jim's mother, so it was hard to comprehend where they might have crossed paths outside of school. They were no closer to a solution by the time their food arrived. It lived up to its reputation, and they both relished every bite. Dunking a fry in cheese, Gabby asked, "What if the two aren't related at all?"

"Two what?" Emily asked, caught up in her Philly.

"Jim's murder and Helen's disappearance. What if they're not connected at all?"

Emily swallowed the last bite of her sandwich and stared at her plate as if it were a departing lover. All good things must come to an end, but that didn't mean you had to like it, Emily thought. "I guess that's always a possibility. But think about it. Ellington is not exactly a hotbed of crime. Two major, incidents we'll call them, in one night seems like an improbable coincidence. Factor in that they both worked at the school and the murder occurred there, and the chances of them being unrelated seem even higher."

Gabby nodded. "I think the problem is that if they are related, don't we have to consider that Helen could be guilty and is on the run?"

Emily stirred her water with her straw, creating a whirlpool in her glass. That's exactly how her life felt right now—she was spinning in circles, her world out of sorts. "I guess so. But then we have to circle back to motive. Why would Helen kill Jim? What was their connection?"

Gabby picked up the dessert menu and frowned. "Maybe we should ask to speak to the owner or manager. If Jim spent a lot of time here, maybe he talked to him or her."

"Good point. I'll catch our waitress."

As it turned out, the owner actually was the original Elsie, a skinny, yet busty, redhead who snapped her gum as she approached their table. As she slid into the booth beside Emily, she half expected to hear her say "Kiss my grits." Over truly excellent pie—apple for Emily and strawberry rhubarb for Gabby—they questioned Elsie concerning what she knew about Jim.

Elsie had no idea that Jim had been murdered, and she seemed genuinely upset as she wiped her tears on the edge of the checkered apron she wore. "Who would want to hurt a nice fella like Jim?" she asked them. Emily explained that was what they were hoping to find out.

"He stopped in here nearly every day. He struck me as a man on a mission, always on the alert," Elsie said.

Gabby patted Elsie's hand, as the older woman was still swiping at tears. "Did he ever talk to you about what this mission might be?"