Bound To Be Dead: Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 3 Page 5

I lay the open magazine on my lap. “You mean about the flower name-tag switch?”

  “No. Not that.” Pete sets his razor down and picks up a pair of scissors to start on the top of Dylan’s head. “I was thinking about last week, during dress rehearsals. That same electrical outlet that Max used for the bull’s-eye wasn’t working right for Missy’s presentation. You know, the one where she does a whole monologue about some women’s hard journey nonsense? We had to move the table and little light to the other side of the stage. So maybe that original outlet was to blame?”

  Dylan says, “Did you ask someone to fix it?”

  “Nope,” Pete says as he snips minuscule pieces of hair from the top of Dylan’s head. “Frank owns this shop too, so I know how long it would’ve taken to get him to fix it. Moving the props to the opposite side seemed easier.”

  I ask, “And my dad wasn’t here for dress rehearsals because he was on the road?”

  Pete nods. “I forgot about the broken outlet until last night. Right before I went to sleep.”

  I toss the magazine aside. “So, Uncle Frank might not have known the outlet wasn’t working when he helped my dad set up the trick?”

  “Or maybe he did. Who knows?” Pete shrugs. “But it’s still odd about the name tags, Dylan. Was Emily embarrassed when you called her out for switching Tina’s purple flowers for the red? I swear, women are picky about the littlest things. If you ask me, they waste too much time worrying about nothing.” Pete laughs like he’s the brightest guy in the world.

  I’d have another name to call him, but I won’t. We just learned what we came for and a bit more. Why did Emily switch out the flowers that later Uncle Frank switched again? Could that little prick on Tina’s finger from the rose have something to do with her death? Or was the rose just another prop to provide misdirection?

  Maybe Tina’s little wound was caused by something else entirely.

  Chapter 5

  Dylan and I hit the sidewalk outside the barbershop, and I wait until the door swings closed before saying, “Pete told us more than we’d bargained for. He and a few others knew the outlet was faulty, and that Emily switched the flower’s name tags too.”

  He grunts. “Weird how that happened.”

  “Okay.” I poke him in the ribs with my elbow. “You were right about the staying-silent technique. Pete spilled like a waterfall. But I’m surprised you let me help.” Dylan and I usually get crosswise when I snoop around his cases.

  “If you can’t beat ’em, might as well join ’em.” He steps aside so I can unlock my store.

  “Glad you finally came to your senses.” I turn the lock and pat my eager dog, who’s super excited to see Dylan too.

  Dylan squats to play with Cooper. “I don’t think I’d call it sensible. But in this case, your help came in handy. So, thank you.”

  “Welcome. And I can help you again. Because I kept Brittany home from school, I have an excuse to talk to her teachers and get her assignments. Brittany is in Emily’s biology class. Maybe I can catch her right before lunch when I have some help here.”

  Dylan nods. “I’ll meet you outside her classroom at noon.”

  Really?

  Something’s up for sure. There’s no way he wants me in on the Emily interview too. “Why are you being so agreeable about me helping?”

  Dylan gives me a quick kiss. “Because you’re cuter than any of my deputies. See you later.” He turns and heads out the door without looking back.

  Yep. He’s definitely up to something. No way he wants me in on two interviews in a row.

  I busy myself straightening books and filling online orders, watching the clock the whole time. Since Brittany is back in school, I hired a woman named Nan to help me out a few hours a day. As soon as she arrives, I’m going to see if Madge has learned anything new about Dylan’s interview with Uncle Frank this morning. After that, I’ll head over to the school to meet Dylan.

  After another hour slowly passes, the bell tinkles again, and this time, it’s Gage. These days, a visit from my lawyer isn’t good.

  “Morning, Sawyer.” Gage joins me at the front counter and pushes up his glasses. “Want the good news or the bad first?”

  Of course, it couldn’t just be good news for a change. “The bad, I guess.” I draw a deep breath to brace myself.

  “Your building permits for the new restaurant have been held up. Some new red tape I have to untangle before we can move forward. But it’s doable.”

  “That might be a blessing in disguise.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I don’t have money until the trust stuff is cleared up anyway. So, what’s the good news?” Maybe my luck is about to change.

  Gage smiles. “I just found out our trust hearing had to delay for a week. The judge had to have his appendix out last night.”

  Thank goodness. “Maybe now if Brittany’s mother actually shows up on Wednesday, we can clear up where the adoption money came from. But she can’t legally take Brittany back, can she?”

  “No. But people can change.” Gage smiles tightly. “If Stella really has stopped the partying life and Brittany wants to be with her biological mother, would it be right to stand in their way?”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. “But what if it’s all an act? What if Stella makes Brittany think things have changed, but they haven’t?” I can’t let Brittany go back to the life she had before.

  Gage shrugs. “Brittany would see through that. She’s a street-smart kid.”

  Only because Stella made Brittany that way. “So, I should just let a fifteen-year-old decide what’s best?”

  “I think you should consider that the situation might have changed.”

  I slump onto the stool behind me. “My gut tells me Brittany is better off with me right now.”

  “Even if you lose the trust and your house? Not to mention your new restaurant. Brittany needs to go to college soon. The wine you inherited isn’t worth enough to send her to the kind of school she deserves.”

  I rub at the headache brewing behind my temples. “I’d figure it out.”

  Gage nods. “I’m sure you would. But you’re only thirty-two. This is your opportunity to be single with no obligations again. You could go to France and study under a famous chef like you’d planned. And be with Dylan without the complication of a kid. Maybe Stella coming back, if she’s really changed, isn’t such a bad thing?”

  It sure feels like a bad thing.

  My goals have all changed. I like the idea of opening a new restaurant, figuring things out with Dylan, and being Brittany’s sister. However, I need to do what’s best for Brittany, no matter what that is. My mother would have wanted that. “Let’s just see what happens on Wednesday, then we’ll go from there.”

  “Okay. See you later.” Gage turns and walks out the door.

  I drop my head into my hands and moan. Gage is right. Brittany added a bunch of complications to my life that were hard at first. But now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  How is it possible that my whole life might be hanging in Stella’s hands?

  Nan, a thin, gruff, gray-haired retired librarian, is in charge of the bookstore for the next hour, so I hurry up the steps to the municipal building across the grassy square to talk to Madge. Maybe if Dylan is in, we can walk to school together to talk to Emily like we did when we were kids. It could be nice.

  I push the glass doors open and start down the long tiled hallway to the police station. When I see my uncle with a garment bag and briefcase in his hands, I skid to a stop. “Are you going somewhere? And does Dylan know?”

  “Yes. And yes.” My uncle breezes past me. “Not that it’s any of your business. See you in court next week.” He departs through the double doors and disappears down the steps.

  How can Dylan let him leave? What if my uncle plans to hide out in Timbuktu?

  I pick up the pace and push my way through the police station doors. Madge is on the phone as always, but she waves me toward her desk. I’m so
steamed, I change direction for Dylan’s office. He has some explaining to do. Who’d let the number one suspect leave town? Especially after telling my father he has to stay put.

  I poke my head inside Dylan’s office, but it’s empty, unfortunately, so I backtrack to Madge’s desk. Tapping my foot and motioning with my eyes to get off the phone isn’t getting me anywhere, so I give up and flop into her guest chair.

  Finally, Madge disconnects the call. “You look upset.”

  “Why would Dylan let the mayor leave town?” My anger made me miss an important detail about Madge. For the first time since we’ve met, she isn’t wearing a Christmas sweater. And her eyes look red like she’s been crying.

  Madge shrugs. “It’s a meeting of all the state’s mayors. Important for him to attend. Especially since we don’t know exactly how Tina died yet. Still could’ve been a heart attack.”

  “Tina’s eyes suggest it was more than that.” Maybe. “Are you okay? You look upset too.”

  “I’m fine.” Madge dips her head and studies a pen on her desk.

  Avoiding eye contact with me.

  “No. You’re not.” I draw a deep, cleansing breath and take her hand. “Can I help?”

  Madge finally tilts her head up a fraction. “Do you think my Christmas sweaters are ugly?”

  Oh boy. This is one of those times honesty might not be the best policy. “I think anything that spreads year-round Christmas joy is amazing.” Madge once told me that was why she wore her sweaters. To spread happiness. “Anyone who disagrees is just a grinch.”

  A slow smile creeps across Madge’s face. “You really think so?”

  “Yep. So why aren’t you wearing the sweater you had on earlier?”

  Madge scowls. “Because I overheard Beth and that new gal from IT talking about my sweaters in the bathroom. They weren’t very nice.”

  Beth, Uncle Frank’s secretary, claims to have psychic powers of some sort, and she gives me the willies. “Beth is also the same dark soul who used to stab pins into dolls of Dylan and me during homeroom. Hardly someone interested in happy vibes.”

  “Never thought about it like that.” Madge pulls out her bottom drawer and grabs the sweater she had on earlier. “Maybe I should put this back on to protect me from her dark arts woo-woo powers.”

  “Probably a wise move.” I suppress a grin.

  Madge stands and pulls the sweater over her head. “But Beth wasn’t wrong about Raphe. And the golf ball, was she?”

  I wave a hand. “I think Beth might have overheard my uncle telling Joe Kingsley to set Raphe up to shoot that ball through my store’s window last summer.” Joe said it was an accident, but I doubt it. He had Raphe shoot that ball with a threatening message on it through my store’s front window so I’d have to replace it. That’s why I’d rather talk to Emily at school than at her and Joe’s house. He still has it in for me.

  Madge sits back down and frowns. “But Beth was also right about Dylan’s dad having a heart attack. And you and Dylan did break up for many years like you said she predicted when you guys were in high school.”

  I shake my head. “She just wanted Dylan for herself.”

  “But maybe…” Madge leans closer so the lone deputy across the office won’t hear. “She can tell you who killed Tina.”

  I’m not one for psychic mumbo jumbo, but it’d give me a chance to tell Beth she owes Madge an apology, so I’ll play along. “Good idea. I have just enough time to stop by her office before I meet Dylan at Emily’s classroom. I’ll report back later.” I stand to leave.

  “Wait.” Madge pulls something from her big purse. “You might need this. I got it last summer when we were on vacation. It wards off the bad stuff.”

  “Can’t hurt.” I accept the blue Greek Evil Eye. “See you later.” I tuck the token into my slacks pocket and head out to the hallway to Uncle Frank’s office.

  Always a little scared of Beth, I open the mayor’s office door and stick my head inside. On the short walk down the hallway, my courage waned a bit. However, my need to defend a kind and generous friend like Madge moves my feet forward and into the outer office.

  Dark-haired Beth is staring at me like she expected to see me. “You just missed him, Sawyer.”

  “I know.” If Beth really had special powers, she’d know I wasn’t here to see my uncle. I throw my shoulders back and lift my chin. “I’m here because Madge overheard you mocking her sweaters in the bathroom earlier. It hurt her feelings. I figured you’d want to know so you can apologize to her.”

  Beth’s left brow arches. “Since when are you the apology police?”

  Anger boils up in my gut again, but it’s probably best to ignore her comment and go. “Sorry. My mistake. I thought you’d want to make it right.” I turn to leave.

  “Sawyer, wait.”

  I stop and slowly turn around. My hand instinctively reaches for the charm in my pocket, though, because I recognize that smug tone from our school days. She thinks she knows something I don’t. “What?”

  Beth stands to her full six feet and circles her desk. “I knew Madge was there. We thought we were doing her a favor. Even you have to admit those sweaters are hideous.”

  I’m not playing her game. “You of all people should know that being different is what makes our world a richer place to live.”

  Beth snorts. “Well played. So why not just ask me what you came here for.”

  My fingers tighten around the charm I could swear is getting hotter by the second. Or, maybe that’s my hand sweating. “What do you think I want to ask you?” Take that Ms. Superpowers.

  Beth’s lips slowly tilt into a grin. “You came to ask if I know who killed Tina.”

  My jaw falls open, and I must look like an idiot. So, I quickly close my mouth but can only nod because I’m really freaking out.

  Beth draws in a deep breath. “It’s complicated, but definitely murder. I’m not seeing a clear picture of who did it because there are so many emotions involved. But an affair and jealousy are at the root.”

  I blink for a moment before common sense rushes back into my head. Murder often is based on jealousy, and Beth saw Dylan interview my uncle this morning. Beth knows everything about my uncle, possibly about his affair with Tina too. She’s probably guessing. “Okay. Thanks. Have a good day.” I turn to leave as fast as I can.

  Just as my hand is on the doorknob, Beth calls out, “If you want a real protection charm, I have some crystals that’ll work better than what’s in your pocket.”

  Before my jaw drops open again, I say, “No, thanks,” and hightail it out the door.

  Once in the hallway, I stop and lean against the wall to catch my breath. I reach for the blue painted stone and pull it out. No. She must’ve seen my hand in my pocket. She just guessed at what was in there.

  Brother. I have to stop letting Beth freak me out.

  Shaking my head at how far I’d let my imagination roam, I stuff the charm back into my pocket and head out the doors and down the front steps. The high school is a short walk along a path at the top of the rocky cliffs. A scenic stroll enhanced by the salty breeze of the ocean and the roar of waves crashing against the cliffs below that I never fully appreciated as a kid. Back then, the path was just a means to get to class, but now, it gives me a sense of peace and calm I never found when I was a chef in Chicago.

  Sure, walking by the lakeshore when the weather wasn’t too hot or too cold had been nice, but nothing to compare to living by the ocean full-time as I do now. In a small town filled with nosy folks who genuinely care for their neighbors. It makes me even more determined to beat my uncle at whatever game he’s playing to ruin me and force me out of town.

  As I approach the two-story high school, Dylan is standing by the front doors speaking to Principal Franklin, Gage’s aunt. She’s blonde and pretty, just like Gage is.

  Dylan lifts a hand when he sees me, but keeps up his conversation. I’m not sure if I should interrupt—they could be talking about a student
—so I wait by the flagpoles for them to finish.

  Mrs. Franklin sees me and waves me over. “Hi, Sawyer. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” She hands me a guest badge. “Gage has a birthday coming up, and I was hoping you’d cater a themed dinner party.”

  I love a good food theme. I’ve been afraid my chef skills will rust over while I wait to get my secret restaurant built. So I clip on my visitor’s badge and say, “Absolutely. Send me an email with the deets, and we’ll make it work.”

  “Wonderful.” She grins and opens the door for us. “You guys know the way, so I’ll leave you to it. The lunch stampede is about to begin, and I’m on duty.”

  We follow behind her through the main lobby, where she peels off toward the cafeteria, and Dylan and I go the opposite way toward the science classrooms. I whisper because it’s eerily quiet, “I stopped by your office to see if you wanted to walk here together and ran into Uncle Frank. Can you be sure he’s really going to that mayor’s meeting and not running away?”

  Dylan shakes his head. “I can’t stop him. Don’t have enough to accuse him of anything. Yet.”

  Hope fills me that Dylan used the word yet. Maybe we’re on the same page. “You never answered when I asked how it went with his interview this morning.”

  “Not much to tell.”

  It’s like pulling teeth to get Dylan to share sometimes. “What did he do when you mentioned the affair he and Tina were having?”

  “I can’t talk about the details of our interview.” Dylan stops and lays his hands on my arms. “What Pete told you about the affair is gossip. Not a proven fact. Yet.”

  When he stares into my eyes, I see all sorts of other information is back there in the vault. I understand it’s his job as a cop to keep secrets, but these are killing me. “Should l ask around and see if anyone else knows about the affair? So we can prove it. I have a lot riding on this too, you know.” Pattie, our hairdresser and one of the talent show’s judges, will be my next stop. She knows just about everything about everyone in town.

  A loud bell clangs before Dylan can respond. Seconds later, kids stream out the classroom doors. Dylan and I plaster our bodies against some lockers and let the throng of hungry students pass. When the coast is clear, we walk the last ten feet to Emily’s biology class.