Guidebook to Murder (4 page)

“You okay?” Amy leaned into me and put her arm around my shoulders. “You ready for some pasta?” Amy always knew how to cheer me up. Anyplace that slapped bread down on the table as soon as you walked in classified as my favorite place to eat.

“I'm fine. I'm just wondering what kind of dog I'm supposed to get.”

“Jill, I don't think it matters. I think she just didn't want you to be lonely.”

“I've always been partial to golden retrievers myself.” Detective King stood by me. “I think my friend has a litter of pups if you'd like to go look at them this weekend?”

I studied the handsome man standing by my side. “I'd like that.”

“I'll call you on Saturday, then?”

“It's a date. I mean, that would be nice.”

Sabrina Jones pushed her way past Greg. “This isn't over, girlie, not by a long shot.” She grabbed George's arm and pulled him out the door.

“She's not happy.” I frowned as I watched the couple leave the chapel.

“That's an understatement. Make sure you keep your doors locked for the next few days, maybe she'll cool off.” Greg joined me in staring as the couple left the mortuary.

And maybe she wouldn't.

I knew I had two more names to add to my list of suspects.

The sun was setting as we drove back to South Cove from Bakerstown's Italian mecca, Tuscany Garden. I'd ordered their seafood special with a bottle of white wine, of which, looking back, I think Amy had one glass. I polished off the rest. Wine, pasta, bread sticks, soup, the whole experience.

“I'd planned to take off for a couple of days to scout out a new place for the competition next month. But I can put it off until after the funeral if you'd like.” Amy turned down the stereo, watching for my reaction.

“Life goes on. I'm going to be swamped around here. I'll probably not even notice you're gone.” I laid my head back on the headrest.

Thank God Amy drove because I couldn't keep my eyes open. Blame it on the pasta, the stress, or even the warm summer sun coming in through the windshield, but I fell asleep soon after we headed for home. I woke when I realized we weren't moving anymore.

“Hey, how long have we been here?” I glanced out the passenger window. We were parked on the street outside my shop.

“Just a few minutes. You looked so cute with the drool coming out of your lips I thought I'd look for my camera before I woke you up.”

Amy was evil that way. “You didn't!” I sat up and wiped my mouth. I'd probably been snoring, too.

She laughed. “I couldn't find it. And I'm never sure how to use this stupid cell phone camera, so your secret's safe with me, I guess.” Amy surveyed the storefront. “Have you thought about closing for a week until you get all this stuff for Miss Emily handled?”

“I'm considering calling in the cavalry. My aunt Jackie ran a coffee shop in San Francisco for years. If I can catch her between jetting off to France or Mexico, maybe she'll come down and run the shop for a couple weeks.” I hadn't seen Aunt Jackie for over a year, not since my last visit back to San Fran.

“Well, I think you should at least close for tomorrow. People will understand. Most of them will be at Miss Emily's funeral on Friday.”

“That's a good idea. I'll pop in and make a sign right now.” Then, I added silently, it's upstairs and straight to bed. Making the sign tonight gave me freedom to not set my alarm. Maybe I'd sleep past five-thirty. I'd call Aunt Jackie as soon as I woke.

I pulled myself out of Amy's truck and waved to my friend, who watched me as I unlocked the store door. You'd think we lived in LA, not a small tourist town more likely to be void of foot traffic than not. Especially at nine on a Monday night, a time known by the local business owners as the dead zone.

Not exactly a comforting thought at the moment.

I flipped on the lights and walked back to my office. Scratching out a
CLOSED
sign, I dug around in my desk to find some tape. I'd gone back and forth about what to put on the sign. Finally, I decided on a sign that said C
LOSED FOR THE DAY
,
SEE YOU
W
EDNESDAY
. I didn't want to seem drab and dreary, but I also couldn't be bright and cheery. What would people think?

I taped the sign in the window, double-checked the locks on the door, and turned off the front lights, heading to my upstairs apartment and bed. All I wanted to do was slip off my clothes and slide in between the sheets. Sleep, I could do, no matter what was happening in my life.

 

The next morning, the sunlight shining through my bedroom window woke me up. I rolled over to check the alarm: seven o'clock. Amazing. I jumped out of bed and started the coffeepot. Heading to the shower, I made a mental list of what I needed to get done today. First and most important on the list was a call to Aunt Jackie to see if I could con her into coming down to handle the store for a few weeks. As the water ran over my body, I played out the conversation in my mind. I knew it was a big favor to ask. Aunt Jackie had worked hard for years to deserve her happy-go-lucky traveling retirement. But maybe she'd at least hear me out.

After getting dressed and fortifying myself with a cup of coffee, black, I pulled out my address book and made the call.

“Hey, Aunt Jackie, it's me, Jill.”

“Jill, I haven't heard from you in forever! Did you lose my number?”

Great, guilt with my coffee, and now I was asking for a favor?

“I'm sorry about that. The shop keeps me pretty busy.” I hoped that would satisfy her. “In fact, I'm calling about the shop. I've had a problem come up, and I wondered if you could help?”

“Sure, let me grab my coffee and sit down, and then you can tell me what's going on. I'm positive I've probably dealt with something like it over my years.”

I could hear Aunt Jackie's slippers slapping the kitchen floor as she went over to pour more coffee. I knew from experience, she wouldn't hear anything I said until she got herself settled and ready to talk. So I waited. Examining my to-do list for the day, I crossed off
Call Aunt Jackie
. I just hoped the call would be all I needed to convince her to come.

“Okay, I'm back, Jilly. What's going on? Problems with a supplier? I told you not to put all your eggs in one basket. You need to have options.”

“No, it's not a problem with a supplier. In fact, the shop's doing great.”

“Then what do you need from me?”

I took a deep breath. “Aunt Jackie, I've had a friend die. She didn't have anyone, so I'm responsible for getting her affairs in order. I just can't do all that and keep the shop going. Is there any way—” I didn't get to finish the sentence.

“You want me to come down and run the shop?”

“Basically, yes. I mean, I'll be in town to help out if you need me, but there are just so many things I need to do.” Who knew planning a funeral would be so time-consuming? Especially when you added in the looking-for-a-murderer part.

The line went dead. Oh God, she'd hung up on me. “Aunt Jackie?”

“Hold on, dear, I'm looking at my calendar. I had a cruise scheduled next month to the Galapagos Islands to see that Lonely George turtle. I hear he's not as lonely anymore.” She giggled. “But I'm free for a few weeks. I guess it wouldn't hurt me to spend some time with my favorite niece.”

I was her only niece. “So you'll come?”

“I'll drive down this afternoon. We can eat dinner together. I should be there no later than five, depending on traffic.”

“Great. I appreciate this.” I wrote down
Dinner at Lille's
on my list.

“Do I need to book a room at that lovely B-and-B down the road?”

I hadn't thought about where she'd stay, but then I had an idea. If Miss Emily's house was now mine, it would be more convenient for me to stay there while I pulled everything together. “Nope, don't book anything. You'll stay in my apartment.”

“But dear, you only have one bedroom and I'm not a couch sort of girl.”

Boy, was that ever true. “You'll have the place to yourself. I have other plans.”

“You aren't taking off with some loser and leaving me stuck with the shop, are you?” The words sounded light, almost casual. But the meaning was clear. My aunt considered me a flake.

Ouch, that hurt. “No, I'm not taking off. I'll explain it all when you get here.”

“All right, then. I'll see you this evening.”

“Drive safe. And thank you.”

“No problem, dear. What is family for?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I made another call. In a few minutes, I had the first appointment on the mayor's schedule for the day. Ten o'clock. I headed to the bedroom to pack a bag for my move into Miss Emily's house.

 

I sat in a turquoise-blue plastic chair, right in the middle of the row of blue plastic chairs I'm pretty sure came from a rummage sale from the California DMV. Think 1960s-era molded backs with most of the lip at the top broken off. Surely the town could afford something a little more upscale, like the folding chairs they sell at Costco, ten for fifty dollars?

Amy pecked at her keyboard, searching for any trace of the lawyer whose letter we'd found in Miss Emily's desk. My travel bag sat in my Jeep, and I was heading directly to Miss Emily's house after hearing what Mayor Bird had on his mind.

I'd called Jimmy Marcum's office and made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon rather than wait until Monday. I figured I had time to get Aunt Jackie settled in the store before I took off for Bakerstown. My mind was running in a thousand directions when I heard my name.

“Miss Gardner?” Mayor Baylor stood in front of me. I hadn't heard him come out of his office. Amy shrugged and started going through the files on her desk. I noticed her screen had gone blank. She must have shut down the monitor when she heard him coming out. I wondered what she had found.

I stood up. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Not at all. Come into my office. I'm sure the last few days have been trying for you, very trying indeed.”

He talked like my grandfather had the few times I had met him. Slow, formal, but rather than Granddad's deep, rich voice, Mayor Baylor's voice pitched higher, more feminine. I appreciated his words of comfort, even though I didn't believe the sincerity behind them.

He put his hand on my back and led the way to his office, a gesture that would have been comforting if his hand wasn't just a little too low. We passed by Amy's desk. “Hold my calls, would you, my dear?”

I shot a look at Amy over my shoulder as we walked into the office. She made a gagging motion, shoving her finger down her throat. Okay, the hand on the back definitely felt creepy. I stepped away from the mayor and sat down in one of the leather high backs in front of his desk. He crossed over the Oriental rug and sat down at his large, antique oak desk. No money had been spared decorating this office. This explained the plastic DMV chairs in the waiting room and Amy's iron circa–World War II desk.

“So, what can I help you with? I assume you're here to talk about selling Miss Emily's house?” Mayor Baylor leaned back in his chair, his hands intertwined in front of him and a barely disguised grin on his mouth.

“Selling? You think I'm interested in selling the house?” I was shocked the conversation had jumped here so quickly. Maybe Mayor Bird should stay on my list of suspects, even if he had taken my name off Detective King's list.

“Why else would you come to see me? I have several investors willing to pay a premium price for the house, even in its current state. I can't believe she lived there all those years in squalor.”

My face felt hot and my hands sweaty. “The house isn't in that bad of shape.” Okay, so that was an understatement. The house needed everything, but it wasn't like she lived in a cardboard box.

Mayor Baylor sighed. “I know you considered the woman your friend, and that's honorable, especially since she was so difficult to get along with, but we both know that house should be torn down and someone should just start over.”

“Mayor Baylor, I don't know what I'm going to do with the house yet.” This interview wasn't going the way I had planned. “Now, if we could talk about something else?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Are there issues with your shop? I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe we could do a flyer for you in the next
Examiner
? We focus on one struggling store a month and give it some free publicity. Amy can give you the application.” He leaned over his computer, clearly moving on to another part of his day, a part done with me.

“No, there's not a problem with my shop.” He told me what to do, he insulted Miss Emily, and now he was calling my shop unprofitable? What a jerk.

He stopped going through his e-mail and glared at me. “Then why are you here, Miss Gardner?”

I'm here to see if you have the balls to smother someone in their sleep.

I took a deep breath. “I wanted to know why you told Detective King I wasn't to be considered a suspect in Miss Emily's death.”

Mayor Baylor sat back in his chair, his potbelly bursting at the buttons of his white button-down shirt. He looked at me, probably for the first time since I had walked into his office. “I told the officer not everything or everyone needed to be examined and suspected. Until yesterday, this was just a woman dying in her sleep. And you were the poor soul who found her.” He fiddled with his pen. “Now that you have been revealed as Miss Emily's heir, it does tend to put a different slant on the picture.”