Death among the Roses: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 1) (12 page)

“Josh?”

Larkin nodded.

Geesh, I thought, I’d only learned that information yesterday myself. How in the world could Larkin have known of Josh’s intended departure? But then that was how this man operated. He almost always knew things no one else did. That’s what made him so valuable a source for me.

I credited part of his talent to his job. Deputies liked to keep their fingers on the pulse of what was happening on their home turf, and they went everywhere. The other part of the equation, I suspected, had to do with Larkin’s insatiable need for control. If knowledge equaled power, as some claimed, Larkin clearly intended to be its king.

I only wished I had as good a network of informants. I couldn’t help but drool at the thought of all the scoops I could dredge up for our newspaper. But reporters had to attend dry, Library Board meetings, noisy sports banquets, and the occasional dog show. Who had time left over to beat the bushes or spend hours over cups of hot tea. Adding insult to injury, I reminded myself that police work often paid better, too.

I suppressed a small sigh.

“So what’s on your mind this morning?” Larkin asked.

I stared into his light blue eyes and thought for a moment that I could lose myself in them. Then, I shook myself back to reality and tucked my lower lip between my teeth. I could hardly believe I’d returned to ask another favor of this man.

I tamped down my terror and stated my question. “Ah, I wondered if you’d share this license plate number with fellow officers and ask around if anyone happened to notice this car parked or driving around town the weekend of Cordelia’s wedding?”

“A license plate? Where did you get the number?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

He gave me an I-don’t-believe-this-nonsense stare. “Who does the plate belong to?”

“Don Treadway’s. You remember. We were all in high school together?”

“The nerd? Is that who you’re talking about. What’s he got to do with Cloverton? Last I heard he lived up around Chicago.”

Larkin even knew where Treadway lived?
I couldn’t believe it. “For your information the man came to Gary’s funeral. You must have seen him.”

“Not that I can recall. And I think I’d remember him. He’d be hard to miss with those inch-thick glasses of his.” Larkin chuckled.

I smiled internally. Score one for my side, I thought. Larkin had been in the same room with Treadway. This was going to be fun.

I cleared my throat. “Oh he’s apparently dumped those thick glasses in favor of contact lenses now. Or at least that’s what I assume.”

“You spoke with him?”

“Well, sure.”

“What does he look like then?”

“Remember the Adonis who was trailing Cordelia about the room?”

I enjoyed a site I rarely see, a sagging jaw on the face of Allen Larkin.

“You’re… you’re telling me,” he stammered, “
that
neat looking man hovering around Cordelia that afternoon was Donny Treadway?”

“The same. And by the way he prefers to go by the name Don now.”

Larkin grunted. “I’d say from the way he’s upped his game, he’s earned the right to update his handle.”

I felt Larkin’s gaze honing in on me. “Why are you pursuing information on Treadway? This doesn’t have anything to do with Gary’s murder, does it? Because if it does….”

Dang
. He was too bright for me sometimes. “Look, I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. I already have the man’s license plate number. I’m not even asking you to run the plate for me, for pity’s sake.”

“Let me get this straight. You went out during while we were socializing after the funeral and made note of Treadway’s license number?”

I shrugged. “If that’s what you want to believe of me, so be it.”

Larkin shook his head and grinned. He leaned in close to me and clamped his large, warm hand beneath my chin. I suspected for a moment that he was about to plant his tempting lips on mine. The thought made me shiver.

“Melanie, I’ve already told you once,” he said, “I’m not offering you any help if you’re getting yourself mixed up in a murder investigation.”

Struggling to restore my composure, I shook my chin free of his touch. “I can’t believe this. Twice now you’ve turned down one of my requests. What gives? I thought we were buddies?”

“Then, pull yourself out of a rut and give me an assignment I can do without putting your life at risk.”

“Come on. Do you really expect me to buy into that silly argument?”

“Yes, I do. You’re messing with a killer, someone who has already taken one life. Historically, it’s much easier to kill the second time. And anyone in danger of being exposed by you would not think twice about wringing that pretty little neck of yours.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re making that up.”

“No, I’m not. And you’re too good a reporter to believe what you just said. You know I’m right. You’re not some uninformed goose. You make it a point to keep informed. Just like me.”

“Gee, thanks for the compliment, I guess.”

His gaze softened. “Anytime, Melanie.”

My heart thundered in my chest.

Oh, drats
.

T
he parking lot at Bella’s Place was only slightly filled when I arrived there at ten. Bella had told me this was the one of the few times of day she could take a break from official duties. Our session had to be sandwiched between breakfast and lunch. In some way, her schedule as she’d recited it, made me feel lucky to work news.

Our appointment was also the only part of my day’s tasks that was setting off alarm bells in my head. I was worried that I might offend a faithful advertiser. Dad said news decisions were never to be based on advertising dollars. But I doubted my present mission would quite fit Dad’s definition of news. And I knew the visit, focused on Gary’s bachelor party, fell outside of his current list of approved pursuits for me.

I sighed. Up to this point, I’d always been a dutiful daughter. I’d be glad when I could return to more normal behavior.

After a quick sigh, I flung open the door of the Fiesta and set off for the restaurant. Bella sat in her usual location. She wore a gold pants suit, trimmed with red buttons. Her makeup and hair was perfect and she was dramatically turned out in a yellow pants suit with red buttons.

She glanced up from a ledger she’d been studying as I her and smiled. “Good morning, Melanie. Give me a minute to send for Jimmy, and I’ll be right with you.”

“I’m sorry, I hope my timing is okay, and that I’m not inconveniencing you.”

“No, not at all. Sitting in my perch is good practice for my son. I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

“You hide your age well.”

Her smile widened, and she rose from her perch. I stood there waiting meekly for the changing of the guard. Jimmy joined us quickly and was soon properly installed. Bella led me through a large doorway into a small room, which I assumed was her office. There was a desk, several chairs, and an old-fashioned, large floor safe, the kind seen in old movies. She pointed me toward one of the smaller straight back chairs while she collapsed into the room’s only well-padded armchair.

“Oh,” she sighed, kicking off her shoes. “I’m getting too old for this job.”

“Nonsense.”

She managed to dredge up a small smile. “My dear, that’s sweet of you, but at my age, lies stand out as boldly as large neon signs.”

I felt my cheeks flush and wondered what Bella must be thinking of me?

“You wanted this session, my dear.” Bella stared at me kindly. “Now go ahead and ask whatever question it is that’s brought you here.”

“It’s about Gary’s bachelor party. I wondered what happened that night?”

A slow smile spread across Bella’s wizened face. She shook her head. “Melanie, I thought you knew better as a reporter than to ask such an open-ended question. Besides, a successful businesswoman never divulges her customer’s secrets.”

“Please,”I begged. “The rumors have even reached Cordelia’s ears. She’s so upset the thought that something bad might be tied to Gary’s special night that it’s hard for her to bear up under the weight of it now.”

“Then send Cordelia to me, dear. I’ll fill her in – gently and privately. I can assure you, however, that it’s nothing to distress her.”

Dang.
I couldn’t think of any way to work past that response. I didn’t want Bella talking to Cordelia. My friend knew nothing of the suspected misadventure, and I’d never intended she should.

I wondered if Bella already understand this and was toying with me?

I blanched. Paranoia was a new experience for me.

Bella smiled. “As long as you’re here is there anything else you’d like to know?”

I was never one to turn down invitation like that. “I don’t suppose you heard anything that might suggest what prompted Gary’s murder?”

“Sadly, no. Gossford has been here He’s interviewed me and my staff. Believe me, if any of us had any information we would have gladly shared it with the police.”

Her comment surprised me. I wondered what had sent Gossford out here to speak with Bella? I doubted he’d heard the same bachelor party rumors that I had. Could there be some other event or issue tying Gary to this restaurant? I remembered the large floral bouquet Bella and Jimmy had sent to the funeral. What kind of relationship had triggered that large a goodbye? Yet, neither of the them had attended the funeral.

I rose and offered Bella my hand. “Thank you. I appreciate your taking time to meet with me.”

“Any time, Melanie. I like you. And I like your writing, too.”

That little tidbit cheered me up no end.

On my way out of the restaurant I passed Jimmy. “Hope my mom proved helpful,” he said. “I’d hate to see a good-looking little gal like you leave here frustrated.”

I felt my cheeks flush. Was Jimmy coming on to me? Then I noticed his dark eyes sparkling as he apparently enjoyed his questionable joke. I suspected his mother wouldn’t have enjoyed his gambit. In fact, I suspected if she heard his comment, she’d have boxed her son’s ears.

I turned to Jimmy and raised my chin. “You’re mom told me exactly what I needed to know.”

“She did?” Jimmy’s brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “That’s good. I always like to play fair with reporters.”

I had the feeling my response had Jimmy worrying a bit over just what his mother had told me.

***

When I made it to Cordelia’s place, I found her seated in the living room. She wore old jeans and a dark T-shirt. Her make up was in place, and she looked more nearly her old self than I’d seen her in a long time. But on second look, I detected dark smudges still lingering beneath her eyes. At least, I thought, the shadows weren’t as deep or dark as they’d once been.

Cordelia rose from her chair and came to me. “It’s good to see you.”

I pulled her into my arms. “You, too.” I gave her back a quick rub. “So what have you been up to?”

My friend took my hand and led me to the couch. we sat with our knees nearly touching. She turned her gaze on me. “Melanie, I’d like to apologize. Since Gary died, I’ve been a self-centered pig. I don’t know how you’ve put up with me.”

“Dear heart, you were wounded and in need of care and attention. If I was able to do anything to help you, then I feel blessed. You have never felt like a burden to me.”

Cordelia’s smile softened. “You’re too kind. I hope you know that. But I am feeling better.”

“You look better, too.”

“If I do, it was the love and support from you and so many others that helped me reach this place. I also want to thank you for your little chat with Zack. He came to me immediately after you left. And he’s been a wonder every day since then. So mature. So helpful.”

“Wow. Perhaps I should start a counseling service?”

“Maybe,” Cordelia said as her smile broadened. “Anyway what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing in particular. I just wanted to see you.” We chatted about the funeral for a while. About the turn out. About the flowers. About the strength she’d drawn from the kind words offered her.

It was after we’d covered all the usual topics that a new idea popped into my mind. “How about doing lunch out?”

“Today?”

I nodded.

Cordelia glanced down at herself. “I’m not dressed for it,” she protested.

“Don’t worry about that. We can stop by Howie’s. Jeans are the norm there.”

“I was to meet Ginger there. But she called cancelled last night. You don’t want me dining alone do you?”

Cordelia laughed. “It might actually be fun.”

“Come on. There’s a whole world full of people out there.”

A few minutes later, when we stepped through the restaurant’s front door, Howie’s was its usual crowded affair. Since we were there on Saturday, families with toddlers and parents with teenagers tended to occupy most of the chairs. The ruckus they raised probably meant Cordelia and I would need to shout to be heard over the din.