Trouble in the Tarot (12 page)

“My pie I could see, but I doubt he had any interest in your cookies.” Fiona turned up her nose in a snooty way, and Granny made a sound like she’d given her the raspberries, or her Metamucil was kicking in. It was hard to tell these days. “Besides, how does that relate back to Bernadette’s death?”

“Don’t you listen to anything? Like I said, hard work leads to a hearty appetite. You heard the captain. He said Bernadette’s turnovers were to die for.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“Ladies, this isn’t a game of clue,” Mitch interjected, rubbing a hand over his whiskered face and rolling his head on his neck as though trying to stop an impending headache. Too bad it did nothing to stop mine.

“No, it’s the Granny and Fiona Show,” I corrected him, making a mental note to buy more pain medicine.

“About that, I think the Fiona and Gertie Show has a better ring,” Fiona said, making me change my mind about the pain medicine. It had to be five o’clock somewhere, and I needed a drink.

“Fiona and Gertie? Hardly,” Granny said. “I think…”

“You see?” I raised my brows at Mitch, pulling him into the living room as they continued on their new rant.

We sat on the heavily upholstered overstuffed sofa, sporting a uniquely shaped and curved back. I took a moment to breathe deeply and try to relax. Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows draped in heavy fabrics of deep reds, greens, gold, and rich browns. They blended perfectly and were lined with lace and pulled back with heavy cording and tassels. I pulled a needlepoint pillow onto my lap and played with the fringe and cording as I listened to Mitch talk.

“Yeah. While you were gone, they gave me a twenty-minute lecture on how it was taking me way too long to do my job. And that, without your help, it was going to take me forever to solve this case.”

“Maybe they have a point.”

“Sunny, we’ve been over this.”

“No, you’ve been over it. I still think there’s a way for me to help if you’d just listen to me.”

He ignored that comment and continued, “I tried to point out that today was only the first day, but according to them, they have a truce. They’ve decided to work together and solve this murder themselves.”

“This is their idea of a truce?” I sputtered.

“Apparently.” He sighed, looking tired, but I was too frustrated with him to even attempt to comfort him. He tried to take my hand, but I picked up the pillow once more.

“So, any leads?”

“Nothing substantial.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m just following up with the people closest to Granny and Fiona and even Bernadette.”

“So, no new information or persons of interest?” I dug a little deeper, wondering if he was going to reveal anything like he’d promised.

He studied me carefully before finally speaking. “No. Why? Did you find something out?”

“Don’t be silly.” I busied myself with straightening a few knickknacks on the table in front of us, not quite meeting his eyes. “How could I find out anything? I’m not supposed to be working this case, remember?”

“I do.” He stilled my hand with his own until my gaze met his, and then he raised a thick black brow. “Do you?”

“Do you also remember you’re supposed to be keeping me in the loop?” I pulled my hand out from under his and folded them in my lap. “You promised to keep me informed. That’s all I asked.”

“And I will just as soon as I discover anything.”

“Then why do you look like you’re hiding something?” I thrust my chin up and watched him closely as he answered.

“Why do you?” He leaned into me, nearly touching my nose with his.

Morty let out a loud meow at our feet, and we jumped apart.

“He’s the one who’s hiding something.” Mitch eyed him warily.

“Oh, please, you big scaredy cat.” I pulled the carnival flyer from Morty’s mouth and dusted his flour paw print off of the Animal Angels logo. Granny must be baking again. “He gets into things like any other cat. Speaking of pets, did the Animal Angels get their check from the auction?”

“That’s still being worked out,” Mitch said, taking the flyer from my hands with a pondering look. “Before Bernadette died, she gathered quite a few signatures on her petition to have the carnival proceeds go to the original charity: Quincy’s Parks and Rec Program.”

“I really thought Quincy was the one sabotaging the carnival, but it doesn’t make sense for him to ruin it if there was even a chance the money from the auction could go to him instead of Animal Angels.”

“Agreed, but someone definitely wanted the carnival to end early. The question is who would benefit?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, intending to find out but not about to tell him so. Instead, I responded, “I do, however, know that the Parks and Rec buildings are in need of renovation, but they aren’t about to fall down,
and the swans will survive another year without their pond spruced up. I feel bad, but I do think the carnival board made a smart decision. Everyone knows those rescued animals are in need of so much more. Animal Angels is truly a blessing.”

Morty let out what sounded like a groan, bumped up against Mitch’s leg, and Mitch dropped the flyer. Morty hissed at him, snatched the paper in his mouth, and pranced out of the room as though he were a king and we were lowly peons.

“For the record, that cat freaks me out. If I ever do have dessert again, it sure as hell won’t be in your kitchen.”

“Probably a good idea,” I said, thinking that at the rate we were going, dessert was a long way off.

*    *    *

Late Monday afternoon, I pulled into the parking lot of the Divinity Police Department. Looking around, I didn’t see Mitch’s car, which only made me wonder what he was up to. Earlier, he had given Morty a funny look, and then he said there was something he had to do. The next thing I knew, he was gone, leaving me alone with Granny and Fiona still arguing over whose suspect was the more logical choice as they baked and stitched their buns off in the kitchen.

One good thing came out of their bakeathon: Granny gave me a box of cookies for Captain Walker, and of course, Fiona baked him a pie, which set off a whole new argument. More than happy to run their errands for them, if only to escape the insanity, I’d headed into town.

Carrying my basket of goodies, I wandered down the hall, hoping to avoid a certain someone. I hurried around the corner and had almost reached my destination.

“Miss Meadows, why am I not surprised to see you here?” Chief Spencer asked.

I stopped, closed my eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned around with a smile on my face. “Chief Spencer, so nice to see you.”

“Is it?” He stood tall with his shoulders squared to precision. He had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair parted on the side and precisely trimmed. His glare and frown put Detective Grumpy Pants’s to shame.

“Of course it is.” I had never understood what I’d done for him to dislike me. “Granny asked me to bring Captain Walker some cookies, and Fiona baked him a pie.”

“Really, now? Did you check them for anything lethal?” His eyes narrowed. “You know…accidents happen.”

I stiffened my spine but kept my brilliant smile in place. “Granny’s a careful cook. I’m sure nothing like that would ever happen to her food.”

“I don’t know. She’s getting old, and her eyesight isn’t the best. I’ve heard stories about other things accidentally winding up in her food not that long ago. I’d hate to see anything else
illegal
happen.”

“So would I.” I opened the basket, pulled out a cookie, and took a big bite. “Delicious. Want one?”

He just grunted and walked back into his office.

8

A door down the hall opened. “I thought that was you,” Captain Walker said after poking his head out. “Something smells good. Those are for me, I hope?” He pushed his door open wider.

“Absolutely,” I said and gladly followed him inside. I set the basket down on his desk and then plopped into the nearest chair.

“Rough day?” A sympathetic expression crossed his face.

“Rough week.” I rubbed my temples. “Is Mitch around?”

“No.” Captain Walker studied me carefully the same way Mitch had. It must be a cop thing. “Why?”

“No reason. Just curious.”

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“No worries, Captain. I’m behaving,” I said a little more tersely than I had planned.

The captain’s face softened as he wiped a crumb from his goatee. “Sunny, I know it’s hard for you, but you have to stay out of this one. Trust Detective Stone. He’ll find something.”

“I know, and I am, but a certain someone wants this solved yesterday.” I glanced toward the door. “I don’t know why he hates me.”

“Chief Spencer doesn’t hate you. He’s just protective of Mitch. He knows what Mitch went through with Isabel, and you didn’t hear this from me, but Spencer’s been burned by a woman as well. He doesn’t have any family, so Mitch is like a younger brother to him. Trouble does tend to follow you around.” The captain winked.

“Wow, that explains a lot.” I thought about what he said, and I could understand the chief’s desire to want to protect Mitch’s heart. It was kind of sweet, actually. “Thanks, Captain. I’ll behave. You can count on me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, if you don’t mind, I think it’s time for a coffee break.” He reached for the basket of cookies and the pie, practically drooling as he did so.

I just smiled and slipped out of his office, leaving him alone with his beloved sweet tooth. I pondered his words and thought, he could count on me, all right. Count on me to behave like an undercover agent, aka Sunny the Super Spy.

I knew I wasn’t a real detective, but this was
my granny we were talking about. I’d be darned if I’d sit around like a boxed-up deck of tarot cards and do nothing. I exited the police station and ran smack-dab into Hazel Kissinger in the parking lot.

It was a sign.

“Sunny, hi. I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Hazel said, carrying a cake box and wearing a pretty yellow sundress. “I just don’t know what those two were thinking, arguing over what should or shouldn’t be allowed in an auction.” Her face hardened for a moment as though she just couldn’t let that go. “I mean, isn’t the point of the auction to raise money for charity?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And, my goodness, what on earth was Bernadette thinking with starting that petition?” Hazel tsked, her brown curls jiggling as she shook her head. “Animal Angels was her idea to begin with. She had to know that trying to change the charity to the Parks and Rec Program mid-carnival was going to stir up trouble. Although, I can understand why Quincy Turner was so upset. The carnival board promised him last year that his Parks and Rec Program would receive the proceeds this year.”

“I understand, but—”

“You know how bad the economy is these days. With his state funding cut so drastically, he’ll be lucky to stay open. Have you seen the gazebo and swan pond? They are in dire need of repairs. In fact the whole place could use a face-lift if you ask me, but no one seems to notice.” She stared off as if in deep thought. “People should pay more attention to things.”

“But I thought—” I started, but she snapped out of her dreamy state and cut me off again.

“Me, too,” she said, not having a clue what I was about to say. “I know Animal Angels is new, and all, and rescuing animals is a great cause, but you know Granny is very persuasive. She wanted you to read tarot cards at the carnival. We all knew if the proceeds went to Animal Angels, then you would say yes on account of your love for animals. I mean, you did let that crazy cat stay at your house.”

More like he let
me
stick around, I thought, and if you asked me, this woman was the crazy one. “I never—”

She held up her hand. “I know, I know, but what’s fair is fair. Just saying. Still, Granny made some enemies by lobbying for Animal Angels instead of the Parks and Rec Program, and Bernadette knew it.”

And I couldn’t help but wonder if Hazel was one of them. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one to sabotage the carnival just to get back at Granny and Fiona.

“Well, nice chatting with you. I’ve got to run. Captain Walker is expecting me.” She beamed.

“Really?” I could bet she had her chocolate cake in that box. The same cake she had chosen for the bakeoff, no doubt.

Her jaw bulged like she was grinding her teeth. “Don’t look so surprised. I can cook, you know.” She huffed off into the station, but I heard her mumble, “It’s about time he noticed me.”

And what if he hadn’t? It made me wonder just how far Hazel might have gone to make him.

*    *    *

Monday night, I stood in the back of the room at Pearl’s Funeral Parlor for Bernadette Baldwin’s calling hours. Since Bernadette was a local business owner, most of the town was there. Bernadette was aggressive and loved to be the center of attention, but she wasn’t that well liked. She was respected as a businesswoman, but not so much as a person.

“There you are, child,” Lulubelle said, giving me a big squeeze. She was a large woman with even larger hair, but her spirit was her biggest part of all. She let out a bawdy, raucous laugh, not giving a hoot that people were frowning at her. “How’ve you been, Sunshine?”