Cast Iron Cover-Up (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 3) (14 page)

Grabbing my Dutch oven, now even heavier loaded with food nearly to the lid, I walked outside.

We were dealing with a limited amount of time now, and so far, my prodding hadn’t produced much that we could use.

It was time to turn up the heat, in every way possible.

Chapter 22: Pat

“H
ow do those coals look to you?” I asked Annie as she rejoined us outside. The cast iron was clearly heavy, but I knew better than to offer to carry it for her. My twin sister was a proud young woman, and I wasn’t about to make her look the slightest bit weak with this crowd.

“They’re perfect,” she said as she put the pot down, and then, grabbing a nearby shovel, she started moving some of the glowing coals around. Once she had a nice little bed away from the main fire, she placed her covered Dutch oven down in the middle of it and then immediately added even more coals to the top of it. After Annie had it sitting comfortably on the fire, with a healthy amount of coals on top as well, it was time to push our guests a little harder.

Before I could do that, though, one of them spoke up first.

“Won’t it burn everything on the inside with so many coals on top?” Henry asked.

“Heat rises, so I need more of it on top than I do on the bottom,” Annie said. Holding her hand over the top, after a few moments she added, “That’s running somewhere around 350 degrees F, so we should be fine.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Marty asked.

“About what?”

“How can you possibly know what the temperature is just using your hand?”

“I have no doubt she can do it,” Gretchen said in my sister’s defense. “After all, she’s experienced in this type of cooking, and besides, it’s still got to be a somewhat accurate way to measure the heat. How do you think a thermometer works?”

“With mercury?” he asked her.

“By heat radiation,” Gretchen said.

“Thanks for having my back,” Annie told her.

“I’m not taking sides. After all, it’s just science.”

Once the stew was going, I looked at the remaining firewood and realized that we didn’t have enough wood to finish cooking our meal, let alone build the fire back up to a bonfire tonight so we could all spend some time together. Annie and I couldn’t afford having everyone going to bed before we had a chance to throw some doubt into the group and then watch them react. I had a hunch that my sister had already spoken with Peggy and Gretchen while she’d had them isolated inside the cabin. Now it was my turn with the men. “Marty, would you help me with some firewood?”

“I’ll do it,” Henry said. “Marty isn’t exactly the volunteering type.”

“Why should I do it if I don’t have to?” Marty replied, and then he turned to me. “Go on, Henry. Don’t let me stop you from being a hero.”

“Where’s this wood?” Henry asked.

“It’s at the back of the cabin,” I said.

Henry pointed to some stacked much closer, still in earshot of the others. “What’s wrong with that wood over there?”

“It’s for a different sort of fire,” Annie said when it was clear that I was at a loss for a response that sounded even vaguely plausible.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

“I guess I can help, too,” Marty said after getting a dirty look from Gretchen.

I was still trying to figure out how to kill that particular suggestion when once again Annie came to my rescue. “Marty, you can help him with the next load. In the meantime, would you mind giving me a hand rearranging the fire? We don’t want one side of the oven to get too hot.”

“Let’s go, Henry,” I said before Marty could protest.

As we walked to the back of Annie’s cabin, I asked him, “I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to kill Bones?”

The historian frowned a moment before he spoke. “He wasn’t the easiest guy in the world to get along with, but murder? No, I can’t even imagine the circumstances that would drive someone to do that.”

“Greed can be a pretty powerful factor,” I said. “If he found some of the treasure, that might be motive enough.”

“I guess. The whole world seems to be in debt these days, though. Why kill someone just to get ahead? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“Are you doing that well with your education expenses?”

“My parents are paying for most of it, but I’ve got a few loans, just like the rest of the student body at my school,” he said. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“What are the prospects as a history major?” I asked him.

“Now you sound just like my folks,” Henry said with a grin. “I’m not planning on teaching, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve never been a big fan of working for other people. When I graduate, I’ve got a few ideas of my own. After all, there’s more to history than what’s in the textbooks.”

“Are you going after more treasure?”

Henry looked at me oddly, and I knew that I’d made a good guess. It hadn’t been that big a stretch. After all, this team had been assembled because of something Henry had found in an old journal. Maybe he had other leads as well. “This was supposed to finance the next hunt,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now. I suppose I’ll go back to school tomorrow with the others and try to forget this ever happened. This is my last semester, so after this, I’ll probably never see any of the rest of them again.”

“Not even Peggy?” I asked him as we got to the far woodpile.

“You saw that, did you?” Henry asked with a smile.

“It’s not hard to spot,” I said.

“Pat, has there ever been a girl in your life that you tried to make something happen with, but it just wouldn’t?”

“More than I can count on one hand,” I said, laughing slightly.

“That’s the story of my life. I like Peggy, and I think she likes me, too, but with this murder, any chance we had once is gone.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s pretty simple. How can we look at each other across a dinner table wondering if the other one is a cold-blooded killer? It’s not exactly a recipe for a long-term relationship, you know?”

“I suppose not,” I said.

“What’s that sitting there for?” Henry asked me as he pointed to a nearby gasoline can. “Is that how Annie usually starts her fires?”

“Only in a pinch. That’s for her chainsaw and her weed eater.” I glanced back at him again as I said, “You never answered my question, though. Who do you think killed Bones?”

“I can’t say for sure, but if I had to put money on it, I’d have to say that Marty did it.”

His declaration startled me. “Is there any reason you feel that way?”

“He’s the only one of us who could do it and not show any outward sign of regret afterward,” Henry said. “If Gretchen or Peggy had done it, they’d be exhibiting at least some kind of remorse by now.”

“Because they’re women?”

“No, because they’re human,” Henry said.

“And Marty’s not?”

“I don’t know that I’d say that, but there’s something cold about him that I can’t put my finger on. I don’t know, maybe I’m just jumping at shadows. All I know for sure is that I didn’t do it.”

We were back with the others now, and as we put the wood down near the fire, I looked at it and said, “One more load ought to do it. Marty, you’re up.”

“Whatever,” Marty said, and we headed back to the woodpile for more firewood.

Once we were out of earshot of the others, I asked him, “Do you have any idea who might have killed Bones?”

“Henry,” he said flatly.

“Really? Why?”

Marty studied me for a moment before speaking. “He probably just told you that I did it, didn’t he?”

“I’m not comfortable commenting on that one way or the other,” I said.

“You don’t have to. I know the way his mind works, Pat. It would be the easiest thing in the world for him to blame me for it. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably say the same thing.”

“You are in your own shoes, and you blamed him. I’d love to know why.”

“Bones was hitting on Peggy, and it was obvious that he was taking a pretty hard run at her. Henry might seem like a nice, levelheaded guy, but I’ve seen him get jealous before. And then there’s the treasure itself. If Bones found something and Henry knew about it, Bones wouldn’t be safe.”

“Are we talking about the same guy?” I asked. His portrayal of Henry was at odds with what I’d seen myself so far.

“I know, he seems like a really nice guy on the surface, but underneath that, there’s a shark there, hiding from most of the world.”

“How is it that you can see that side of him when other people can’t?” I asked him.

“Maybe I’ve got a touch of the shark in me as well,” Marty said with a chilling smile.

“Let’s take greed out of the picture for a moment. Do you see either of the women killing Bones?”

“Of course I can. It’s not that hard to swing a pickaxe.”

“Maybe not,” I countered, “but it has to be tough to plunge one into a person’s back, especially more than once.”

“I don’t know what your experience in the world has been, but from what I’ve seen, women tend to be a lot more violent than men. They just don’t show it as overtly.”

“So, you can see Gretchen or Peggy killing Bones, is that right?”

“If he tried to force himself on one of them, you bet I could. I’m just surprised they didn’t stab him more times than they did.”

“Do you ever have any trouble sleeping at night, always expecting the worst from the people around you?” I asked him.

“Me? I sleep like a baby. That’s what a clear conscience will do for you.” It was one of those rare moments that Marty actually smiled and meant it.

We got another batch of firewood and headed back. “You know, just because we knew Bones, that doesn’t mean that it was one of us that killed him,” Marty said. “Money will make folks do things they’d never consider doing otherwise, and I’m sure there’s no shortage of potential killers in your safe little town, no matter what you think, given the right motivation.”

“We’re considering that,” I said, not realizing that I was giving too much away.

Marty grinned. “I’m minoring in psych. So, you and your twin sister are trying to solve Bones’s murder, aren’t you?”

“I don’t suppose there’s any use asking you to keep that to yourself,” I said.

“Sure. Why not? It should be fun to watch you two at work tonight.”

If I hadn’t been certain before, I knew now that I wouldn’t be sleeping for quite some time. This man was as unpredictable and potentially deadly as anyone I’d ever met.

We were nearly back to the fire pit when my cellphone rang. I put my wood down on the ground and saw that it was Darrel. Had he heard from Carter Hayes after all? “Sorry, but I’ve got to take this. Do you mind going back alone?”

“Got it,” Marty said. “Thanks for the chat.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Hey, Darrel, what’s up?”

“Carter’s here, but you can’t tell anyone,” he said softly.

“Does he know you’re calling me?”

“No, of course not. If he did, he’d just run again. He’s been ranting and raving about someone trying to kill him, and he asked me for a loan on top of what I just paid him, too.”

“Why does he need so much money?” I asked him. “You made it sound as though he had a fair amount of cash.”

“He does, but he still doesn’t think it’s going to be enough. I think he knows something, but he’s too scared to tell me about it. Pat, he didn’t kill that college student. I’d bet my life on it.”

“In a way, you are. If Carter is a murderer, you could be putting yourself in danger right now.”

“That should tell you just how sure I am,” Darrel said. “He kept saying that there was no amount of money in the world worth the trouble he was in. He saw that young man get murdered from the trees, and when he ran away, he was pretty sure that the killer saw him, too.”

“Did he say who did it?” I asked, trying my best not to glance over at the group, each member of which was currently closely watching me.

“No, he said that he couldn’t make out the face,” Darrel said.

“Was it a man or a woman at least?”

“I’m pretty sure that he knows, but he won’t tell me,” Darrel said. “All I could get out of him was that it was one of those four students. I’ll keep working on him, but I wanted you to at least know that he was here.”

“Thanks. Call me back, any time day or night, if you get anything else out of him.”

“Will do,” he said. “Pat, you and Annie need to watch your backs.”

“We are,” I said, and then I hung up.

“Who was that?” Annie asked me after I picked up the firewood and returned to the group.

“It was Jenna. She’s going to be out of town a little longer,” I lied.

“Who’s Jenna?” Henry asked.

“She’s my girlfriend,” I said.

“I wish they’d come up with a better name than girlfriend when you’ve reached a certain age,” Gretchen said. “It all sounds like grade school.”

“They have other terms for adults,” Peggy said.

“I know, but I don’t like any of them, either.”

“Maybe you should come up with something yourself,” Marty suggested.

“How about paramour?” she asked. “I always thought that had a nice ring to it.”

“Too French,” Marty said. “Lover?”

“No. Just no,” Peggy said.

“SO?” Gretchen asked.

“So what?” Marty asked.

“No. Significant Other. SO.”

“It’s too confusing,” Henry said. “It will never catch on.”

How had we gotten so far off topic? I interrupted by saying, “I’m just happy to have someone in my life I care about. The term ‘girlfriend’ is just fine with me.”

Annie breathed in deeply, and then she said, “I think dinner’s ready. Who’s hungry?”

Everyone admitted that they were starving, so she lifted the lid of her Dutch oven and stuck a temperature probe into one of the chunks of beef. “It’s perfect,” Annie said as she grabbed a heavy fireproof glove and dumped the coals off the top of the pot before replacing it. Picking the pot up by its wire handle, she moved it to the picnic table and placed it in the center. “Let’s eat.”