A Grid For Murder (5 page)

“I am,” I admitted, for some reason feeling guilty about confessing it. There was something about that woman’s cold stare that cut right through me.

She nodded once. “Then you’ve saved me a trip to Parson’s Valley. If you’ll come this way, we can begin.”

Zach started to follow as well, and the captain stopped and said, “Thank you, but we won’t need you for this interview.”

He touched my arm lightly, and I stopped in my tracks.

Zach took a deep breath, let half of it out, and then said, “I go with her now and my wife makes a statement voluntarily, or we call an attorney and let her handle it. It’s your choice.”

Captain North shook her head slightly. “We both know that just makes her look guilty, don’t we?”

Zach laughed at that comment, though I didn’t see any
humor in it. He was actually smiling as he said, “Captain, you don’t know me, but you can ask around. I’ve got a reputation for being stubborn, but the woman beside me makes me look like an amateur. Now, are all three of us going to have a nice polite chat, or is this interview over?”

She shook her head as she nearly spat out her words. “Come on.”

“Thanks,” Zach answered, as if the police captain had just extended a cordial invitation to him.

Once we were all seated in her new office, she commanded me, “Tell me everything that happened today, and don’t leave anything out.”

I grinned in immediate reaction, since Zach had asked me the same question earlier, and Captain North caught it. “Is there something you find amusing about murder, Mrs. Stone?”

“Me? No. You just reminded me of my husband with the way you worded your question.”

She shook her head slightly, and then clearly decided to let it go, much to my relief. As she took out a notebook and a pen, Captain North said, “Let’s get started, then.”

A
FTER I’D TOLD MY STORY THREE DIFFERENT TIMES, THE
state police captain closed her notebook and said, “Thank you for coming forward.”

“Is that it?” I asked.

“For now. The investigation is just beginning, so I’m sure I’ll need to speak with you again.”

We stood, and I started for the door. That’s when I realized that Zach wasn’t right behind me.

He glanced at me and asked, “Savannah, why don’t you wait for me in the car?”

“I don’t mind hanging out here,” I said.

“Please,” he replied, and I knew from his tone of voice that arguing with him would be pointless. We each had a way of speaking that the other respected. It was an “I mean business” tone that brooked no argument. I nodded, and then made my way outside. I wasn’t sure what Zach wanted to talk to the acting sheriff about, but I knew it wasn’t meant for me to hear. If he’d pulled something like that when we’d first gotten married, I would have howled in protest, but there was an advantage in being married to the same man for so many years. We both knew when to push, and when to back off. This was clearly a time for me to back off.

It was a beautiful day, with a crispness and joy in the air that couldn’t be muted by Joanne Clayton’s murder. I would never have wished her fate upon her, but I certainly understood how someone might be pushed to the limit by the woman. If I was indeed a suspect in the case, I knew I’d have a place along with a dozen other folks, and that was in Parson’s Valley alone.

Zach came out twenty minutes later, and I couldn’t miss his smile.

Before he could say a word, I asked, “Is there actually some good news for us today?”

“She’s not that bad once you get to know her,” Zach said.

“And exactly how long is that going to take?”

“Once you were gone, I gave her a few references of fellow officers around the state, and she called a few she knew while I waited outside. The frost zone retreated quite a bit once she talked to some folks we both know and respect. It should make life at least a little easier for you now.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

“Hey, if I can’t pull strings for my wife, what good is it having them?” Zach put a hand through his hair, and I knew that was a sign that there was something he needed to speak with me about but was not all that crazy about bringing up.

I saved him the quandary. “Go on; just spit it out. What is it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve got something you have to tell me, but you don’t want to do it.”

He shook his head. “How can you read me like that? Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You’re stalling,” I said.

“You’re right.” He shifted a little in his stance, and avoided eye contact with me as he blurted out, “I want to hang around here awhile, if you don’t mind.”

I nodded. “It’s fine with me. Should we go over to Mast General Store, or would you like to go by the Mellow Mushroom and get a bite to eat?”

A frown crossed his face. “You don’t understand, Savannah. I’m going to stay. You’re the one leaving.”

I was puzzled by that. “Are you finally getting tired of me, Zach?”

“No, but I managed to get North to loosen up some, and she’s willing to take some outside advice, as long as it’s not directly related to you. It’s a fine line she’s dancing, but she knows that she might be in over her head, so she’s willing to cut me a little slack.” He smiled at me, and then added, “This is a step forward, Savannah. It keeps me close enough to the investigation so I’ll know what’s going on.”

I couldn’t argue with that, even though I knew the
prospect of staying pleased him. Zach made no secret about the fact that he loved being around an active police department, so it wasn’t exactly a sacrifice on his part, but he was still doing it for my benefit. “How are you going to get home if I go back to Parson’s Valley? I don’t mind waiting for you.”

He shook his head. “It’s not necessary. North’s going to drop me off later. She’s decided to go talk to Laura, Sandra, and Harry today. By the way, you did a great job in there. You were calm and rational as you pointed out the other prime suspects who had contact with Joanne today. I was really proud of you.”

“Thanks. It wasn’t pleasant going over it again and again, but having you there beside me really helped.”

He hugged me, and then said, “I’ll call you later with an update. Are you going to stay in town for a while?”

I thought about doing some browsing in Asheville, but I was suddenly in no mood to shop. “No, I think I’ll head back home.”

“That sounds like a plan. See you there,” he said.

As I left Zach, I glanced back and saw him walking briskly into the police station. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d started skipping. My husband loved being around an active case, no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

But at least this time he was on my side.

As I drove back to Parson’s Valley, I suddenly knew that going straight home wasn’t really an option for me, either. Though Zach was watching my back with the police, there was another group of people that might not believe so readily in my innocence. If the folks in our town thought I was a murderer, it could make life miserable for us both. I was the newcomer there, still an outsider in many of their
minds. It just made sense that I’d be the first one they suspected, especially after they heard about Joanne’s puzzle, and my supposed competition. It didn’t take a genius to know that the events today could easily be skewed toward painting me as a murderer. I didn’t doubt some people would find it heroic, but they weren’t people I cared to associate with. It was likely that either Sandra or Laura had already mentioned my presence at the crime scene, and I was pretty sure the telephone lines were already heating up.

I had to stop the rumors before they had a chance to grow and spread.

If nothing else, I could start getting the word out myself that I’d had nothing to do with Joanne Clayton’s murder.

I just hoped the people of Parson’s Valley believed me.

“I
CAN’T BELIEVE JOANNE CLAYTON IS DEAD,” BARBARA
Brewster said the second I walked into Brewster’s Brews, her coffee shop on 2nd Street and Main in downtown Parson’s Valley. “Savannah Stone, what have you done?” Her voice was loud and brash, and several heads in the coffee shop turned toward me. Perhaps I would have been better off going straight home after all.

“I didn’t kill her,” I said, matching Barbara’s volume so no one would miss my denial. “Believe me when I tell you that I’m not the only one from town who saw her today.”

Barbara, a petite woman in her fifties with brown hair and sharp blue eyes, stared at me a few seconds before she answered. She wasn’t about to let go of it just yet. “That’s not the way I heard it.”

“Who have you been listening to?” I asked. “Whoever it was, believe me, they got it wrong.”

“So, you weren’t having lunch today with Joanne just before she was murdered?”

“We had tea,” I said, and then realized how that must sound, since the herbal nightmare she’d been drinking was probably what had killed her. “But she was fine when I left her.”

Barbara and I had always gotten along, but we wouldn’t be considered best friends by anyone’s standards. She had her finger on the pulse of Parson’s Valley, though, and if I was going to have any luck finding out who killed Joanne, I would need Barbara’s help.

She stared at me again, and then to her credit, she announced loudly, “You know what? I believe you, Savannah. I have a hard time seeing you poisoning anyone.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Now, if she’d been hit over the head with a chair, I might think that was more your style.”

I’d had about enough of that. “I didn’t do that, either.” I lowered my voice as I added, “I just came in for a cup of coffee, and I was hoping for the chance to have a quiet conversation with you.”

If there was anything Barbara liked more than playing the role of public accuser, it was being on the inside of anything. “Lucky for you, I can do both today,” she said. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Let’s start with a cup of plain coffee.”

“That’s easy enough to do,” Barbara said as she drew a coffee and handed it to me.

I slid my money across the counter to her, and said softly, “I really do need to speak with you. I’m not asking for
help out of idle curiosity. I don’t want folks around here thinking I’m capable of murder.”

Barbara frowned, and then said, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it might be a little late for that, Savannah.”

“You’re kidding,” I said, not wanting to believe that the rumors had spread already. “Sandra Oliver was there with Joanne and me, and so was Laura Moon. I didn’t see Harry Pike, but Joanne herself told me that she just saw him. Why couldn’t it have been one of them?”

“It could have been, I’ll grant you that, but you’ve only lived in town for a few years, and they all grew up around here.”

“That doesn’t make me guilty of murder.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Barbara said, “but it doesn’t make you innocent, either. If you ask me, people want to believe that no one who’s lived here all their lives is capable of killing someone. It makes things too uncomfortable, if you know what I mean.”

I’d suspected the same thing myself when I’d walked in there, and having my worst fears realized didn’t make matters any better. “What am I going to do, Barbara?”

She seemed surprised by the way I asked her for advice, and she didn’t know quite how to react at first. “I wish I could tell you,” she said after a moment’s thought, “but at the moment, I don’t have a clue what you can do, and that’s the honest truth.”

“Thanks for the coffee, anyway,” I said as I walked out of the shop. Before I could get three steps beyond the coffeehouse door, I heard someone calling my name.

It was Barbara.

“You forgot your change,” she said loudly.

“I did not.”

As she approached, Barbara whispered, “Would you hush and listen to me? Do you know where the back entrance to my shop is?”

“No, but I could probably find it,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

“Meet me back there in five minutes. We need to talk.”

I shrugged, not sure I liked being shuffled off to the back room. “Why can’t we speak in front of everyone else?”

Barbara looked me straight in the eye as she said, “It’s simple. If it turns out that you did kill Joanne, not everyone in this town is going to want to give you a medal, though I admit you could probably raise enough money from the folks who did want her dead to buy yourself a new automobile. Either way, though, they’re all customers of mine, and I can’t afford to alienate any of them. Do we understand each other?”

“I’ve got it,” I said. “See you soon.” Much louder, I added, “Thanks for my change,” though if anyone had been watching us, they would have to be a stone fool not to realize that we’d just been conspiring about something.

I did as Barbara asked, and found the rear entrance easily enough. I knocked once, waited, and then knocked again.

There was no reply.

Had she just been taunting me with her offer to help? What would she gain by making me look like a fool? I glanced around, but no one was watching me, so at least I wasn’t performing for an audience.