Caffeinated Murder Page 7

  Wringing the towel tighter, “I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but he was found right outside. It’s like a nightmare that won’t end.”

  Clair put a hand on Ava’s arm. “Don’t worry. Everyone agrees it was an unfortunate coincidence. We know you had nothing to do with the murder.”

  “Such good friends. Thank you.” The barista pivoted to return to work but stopped short. She crouched and retrieved the earring, shoving it into the pocket of her apron before scurrying to the counter.

  Chapter Twelve

  A nita and I can usually comment on everything. But the moment our eyes met we were both stunned into silence. Anita’s head tipped to the side, reminding me of Mason when eyeing a fly trapped behind a window screen.

  I waited for a comment from Clair, but she silently gazed after Ava, seemingly equally fascinated.

  Someone had to break the trance. Hefting my handbag to my shoulder, I collected my notebook. “We can’t keep standing here. Get your things. Let’s continue our conversation outside.” The three of us shoved our chairs under the table and shuffled to the door, where I took a last longing glance at the shop keeper.

  “Wait. Look.”

  Clair and Anita skidded to a halt at the open door and stared at me. Trying not to attract attention, I motioned with my eyes, and whispered. “Look beside the cash register.”

  Anita followed my instructions and slapped herself on the chest. “There’s the earring. It wasn’t Ava’s after all. She set it out for someone to claim.” She grabbed Clair’s arm. “Such a relief. I knew Ava had nothing to do with the man’s death.”

  Clair finally turned her eyes to the coffee counter. “Hmm. You’re right. It appears the earring belongs to someone else. And I’m glad of that, but it doesn’t automatically exonerate Ava.”

  Anita used her grip on Clair’s arm to guide her outside. “Clair Lane, I don’t know how you can even consider it.”

  Clair shrugged. “I agree Ava doesn’t seem like the type to kill anyone. I said that to keep us objective.” After a glance at her watch, she continued. “Got to get back to work. Appointments this afternoon. Talk to you ladies, later.” She darted across the street, defying oncoming traffic.

  Belatedly, I shouted. “Be careful, you’ll get hit.” But Clair had reached the sidewalk and walked on without response.

  Anita pulled her keys from her purse. “What’s with her?”

  “Probably stress. It’s getting to all of us. Detective work is no fun if you suspect a friend of murder.” Traffic cleared and we proceeded to the parking lot. “I’ll drive over to the motel and ask questions. Hopefully someone saw something.”

  Anita tailed me to my Chrysler and I twisted toward her. “Isn’t that your car on the other side, by the Toyota?”

  Replacing her keys in her handbag, she nodded. “A thought just hit me. The two of us work better as a team. I’ll go with you. While you question the manager, I’ll canvas the property for possible witnesses.” She was right. Anita had a gift for getting people to talk. I didn’t.

  My gregarious friend sat in the passenger seat with pen poised over her notebook. “What questions do you think I should ask?”

  “You’re assuming there will be someone to question.”

  “Don’t be discouraging. Think positively. I’m counting on being in the right place to meet the right person.”

  “Huh.” I guessed that was as good a plan as any.

  When we arrived, Frank was perched in front of the TV. I guess televisions are a necessity to relieve boredom in small town motels. He didn’t show any signs of recognizing me, so I introduced myself and reminded him of the famous person who had stayed in his establishment.

  The light appeared in his eyes, and I began my interrogation. The questioning didn’t go well. He hadn’t noticed anyone suspicious in the area, even though he was adamant that he kept a watchful an eye on the property. I concluded he mainly kept eyes on his TV programs. I could tell this by watching said eyes repeatedly dart back to the game show blaring on his television.

  Running out of pertinent questions, and lacking game show answers, I left the office in search of Anita.

  I wandered the halls for a few minutes and found her talking to a man in a green work uniform. They seemed to be in deep conversation. This was Anita’s enviable gift. The knack for deep conversation with complete strangers. I trotted to them, hoping to overhear a tidbit of useful information. When I’d attracted their attention, Anita introduced me to Bud, the plumber.

  Anita beamed. “Bud was telling me about some repair work he’s been doing here at the motel. Almost every day for a couple of weeks.”

  Bud nodded. “It’s been steady work. In a facility this age, when one pipe goes, they all go.”

  My friend’s sparkling blue eyes smiled at me. “I was about to ask Bud if he’d noticed anyone hanging around room four-ten.” She turned to Bud. “I’m thinking there might have been someone who didn’t seem to be a registered guest.”

  Bud guffawed. “Lady, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.”

  Anita put on her compassionate face. To be fair, it wasn’t an act, she was serious when she spoke to anyone. “I understand you are so busy, with taking care of all these pipes. Can’t imagine how you keep everything running smoothly. But for me, would you think back? It would have been a day or so before you heard of the body discovered at Ava’s Java. Think about that and maybe it will jog your memory. I bet you notice everything and don’t even realize it. Maybe there was someone you passed, who caught your attention.”

  Bud directed his eyes to the ceiling, one hand on his chin. “Well, now that you ask, I did see a woman along this hall somewhere. I noticed her, but didn’t pay much attention. Not my taste, if you know what I mean. Not enough padding on her backside. Hair too short. I like ‘em a bit more womanly.” Bud gave me a once over.

  I scooted back a step. “What else do you remember about the woman?”

  He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Nothing. Just what I told you.”

  Anita attempted to pry loose more memories, but we were soon convinced Bud didn’t have more to tell us.

  My friend grinned at the plumber, whose eyes now scanned her for womanliness. “You have been very helpful. Thank you so much for your time.”

  I took Anita’s arm and gently propelled her back the way we came. “Thanks, Bud. Bye.” I speed-walked to the parking lot, dragging Anita with me. We jumped into the station wagon and I steered toward town. Notebook in hand, Anita recorded the description of the woman who might, or might not, have met with Giles Gold.

  Cruising past the city limit sign, Melanie D’agostino stood at a crosswalk. I’d noticed her too late to wave, but watched her in the rear-view. She wasn’t alone. Why hadn’t I seen the man also waiting to cross? I wish I’d gotten a closer look at him. Could he be an accomplice in the murder of Giles Gold?

  “Anita.”

  “Hmm?” She kept her head down, still scribbling in her notebook.

  Curse my suspicious nature. The man might have not even been with Melanie. Could have been just another pedestrian. “Nothing.”

  The girl hadn’t been back to work at the Java since the gruesome discovery. But who could blame her? I doubt many eighteen year old girls could put that image behind them.

  Would she fit the description of ‘the girlfriend’? No. At least not the description the plumber had given us. Melanie had long gorgeous locks. I’m sure he would classify that kind of hair as womanly. We couldn’t be sure the woman he’d described had indeed been in Gold’s room. She might have been wandering the halls for another reason.

  I drove on, trying to calm frayed nerves but letting my mind wander.

  How many women in Evelynton would fit Bud’s description? A lot. Geesh. Even Clair fit the description. Why had I ever been interested in writing true crime? This was stressful.

  After depositing Anita in the lot next to her car, I turned toward my house
, but my mind still buzzed. Who did I know meeting Bud’s description? Ava? She had lost weight recently. And her hair was sort of short. Was it an act when she was so casual with the earring? Did she know we were watching? We could have been more discreet.

  I needed more input on the little I’d learned of the case.

  I pulled out my phone and punched in a number.

  Chapter Thirteen

  C lair Lane had purchased her house about a year earlier, after the owner defaulted on the mortgage. Actually, the owner had passed away and lain in the house undetected for at least six months, rendering her unable to make the payments. But that’s another story.

  Clair opened the front door as soon as I climbed out of my car. I strode up the walkway and almost tripped over a furry creature who had run ahead of me. Looking down, I was surprised to see a black and white feline slipping through the open door. “Mason?”

  Glancing at my friend, “What’s my cat doing here?”

  Clair chuckled. “He comes to visit me all the time. Your street isn’t that far away. Did you know he only has to cut through three yards from here to be at the back of your property?”

  Mason ignored me and trotted down the hallway, tail held high. I took a seat across from Clair in her living room. “He seems to be comfortable here. How did he even know where you lived?”

  She shrugged. “I’m thinking about getting a kitten for him to play with while he’s here.”

  That didn’t sound like a good idea to me. “Then there will be two cats roaming the neighborhood.” What if Mason decided to stay with Clair? I shook my head. No reason to accuse her of planning to steal my cat.

  “But the purpose of my visit. I wanted to fill you in on what Anita and I learned at E-Town Gardens.” I relayed Bud’s recollection then had to add my hesitation. “It might have been his imagination. Or maybe he tried to impress Anita by supplying the information she wanted.”

  As I thought about the possibility of Bud inventing the unknown woman, my enthusiasm plummeted. I sank into a chair and rested my forehead in my hand. “It might have been a lie. Crap. That trip was probably a waste of time.”

  Clair frowned and clucked her tongue. “It does sound sketchy. But don’t worry. How about we keep it in mind and continue our investigation?” Her smile returned. “I’m sure something will turn up. How about some coffee?”

  “I could use a pick-me-up.”

  As Clair got up, Mason bounded past us on his way to the kitchen. Soon he was playing soccer with a new toy on the tile floor. “What does my cat have now? I’m so sorry. He can be such a pest, always stealing my pens to play with.” I jumped up to rescue whatever he’d confiscated.

  I lunged and missed the colorful ornament skidding across the floor. “He’s stolen something of yours. Always attracted to bright colors.” I attempted to intercept Mason’s pass and missed.

  Clair was right beside me. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it.” She crouched to reach for the toy, but Mason had long ago perfected his moves in the game of keep-away.

  I was out of breath. “This is embarrassing. My cat shouldn’t be taking over your house.” The toy was skidding toward me. I plunged and wound up sprawled across the kitchen floor, but managed to beat both Mason and Clair to the prize.

  Grasping the toy, I pulled it closer. Anita might call it gaudy. Clair would call it bold. I called it evidence. Words usually flow easily when I’m with my friends, but when I opened my mouth words refused to come out.

  Clair sighed and pushed herself up from the floor. “I can explain.” She took my arm and helped me up.

  Mason stood on his hind legs to bat at the earring I held, but I lifted it out of his reach. “Cat, you have done enough. I think you should go home.” I walked through the living room and opened the door. Mason obediently followed and marched out of Clair’s house. “Go straight home.” Mason is a good cat, but I knew he wouldn’t really do as I said. I doubted he even understood me, but he left. I closed the door and returned to the sofa where Clair waited, her cell phone in hand.

  She looked me in the eye. “I called Anita, and she’s on her way over. I want to talk to both of you at the same time. You’re my friends and deserve the truth.”

  We waited for Anita in silence. The only sound an occasional car passing on the street. It was the most awkward I’d ever felt in the company of my friend. Clair got up and put on a pot of coffee. While she was in the kitchen, I mentally ran through possible scenarios. Was Clair really the girl I went to high school with? Was she going to tell me, she killed Giles Gold? Had she always had homicidal tendencies? Was Clair Lane even her name?

  I really needed some caffeine.

  Anita and the coffee arrived at the same time. She didn’t bother to knock, but walked straight in and sat in a side chair. “What’s going on? Clair sounded upset. What’s happened?”

  While Clair handed us our mugs, I held up the earring for Anita to see.

  She reached out and took it. “Where did you get this? Did you go back to the Java for it? I thought we agreed to leave it there.”

  I held my hot mug close. “As far as I know, the one I found at the motel is still on the counter at Ava’s. The one you’re holding seems to be its mate.”

  Anita’s blue eyes flashed. “Now I’m confused. Where did you get it?”

  I swiveled to gaze at Clair. It was time for her to explain to both Anita and me.

  After a sip of coffee, she began. “I guess it’s obvious this earring is mine, since Mason dragged it out of my jewelry box. And so is the one that Ava has next to her cash register.” Clair paused to take a couple breaths. “I know this looks really bad.”

  Anita sat forward. “Yes, it does. It is bad. Are you the girlfriend?” She sucked in a breath. “You were in that hotel room with Giles Gold.” Leave it to Anita to get to the point.

  Clair put up a hand. “I let this go far too long. Should have confessed as soon as Lauren showed us the first earring. I promise you, I’m not a killer. And I wasn’t having an affair with the man.” Judging from the look of disgust, Clair was telling the truth.

  I sat up straight and made my best attempt at being encouraging. “I’m sure Anita will agree we don’t suspect you of murder. Or the affair either. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell us what happened?”

  With another deep breath, Clair began. “This will sound crazy, but please believe me. It’s the truth. I got a message from Giles through my website. He said he wanted to talk to me about the festival, but in person, not on the phone or by email. I did wonder why a blogger wouldn’t be comfortable with email, but I said fine. After all, I wanted to meet him. Famous food blogger. I could post a selfie with him on my site. And I honestly thought he’d want to talk about the contest.”

  Clair took time to lift her mug and take a drink before she continued. “Giles, Mr. Gold, said he’d come to me. I thought it was a long trip and strange that he was arriving weeks before the Marshmallow Festival.” She shrugged. “But he was the professional, and I figured he knew what he was doing.”

  It all sounded unbelievable to me, but I kept my thoughts to myself and drank my coffee.

  As she spoke Clair’s eyes seemed to look through us, not at the wall but into the past. “He phoned me as soon as he got into town. Such a charming man, and nice to talk to. I guess I was so flattered I wasn’t thinking clearly when I went to his hotel room.”

  Anita gasped. “You what?”

  “Don’t look at me that way. I admit I was a little nervous, but remember it was me who contacted him in the first place. I’d asked him to judge the event.”

  Clair got up and walked around the room as she continued. “When I got to his room, there was a bouquet for me. You know how I love flowers. They were red roses.” She stood and gazed out the window for a moment.

  “It didn’t take long for me to realize something was up. I asked him what he really wanted. And that’s when things got weird. He said that after I’d contacted him, he check
ed out my social media pages, and couldn’t help but fall in love.”

  Clair returned to the sofa and sat down. “You know the health and fitness photos I post. He had printed them all and created an album.” She stared at me. “That wasn’t normal, was it?”

  I shook my head. “The man was unstable. Not that any man wouldn’t fall in love with you, but Giles took it too far.” I was floored. Gold must have been nuts.

  She continued. “Well, when I finally realized he didn’t want to talk about the festival, I tried to let him down nicely. You know, I still wanted him to judge the contest. Didn’t want to make him mad. I told him I’d seen pictures of his wife on the blog and she seemed nice. I started talking about marriage being a sacred bond, and that he would be happiest if he went home and worked on his relationship with her.”

  Clair closed her eyes for a moment. “Guess that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His face turned red. Blood pressure must have skyrocketed. I sort of edged toward the door and was going to make a break for it, but he grabbed my hand to pull me back.”

  Anita bounded out of her chair to sit beside Clair. “Girl! He assaulted you?”

  “Not at all. He wasn’t rough or mean. But when I resisted, we fell onto the bed. I jumped up right away and he rolled off the bed onto the floor.

  “He sat there begging my forgiveness. Poor man seemed stricken, and looked really pathetic, so I promised not to tell anyone.”

  Anita squinted at Clair. “You’re sure he wasn’t violent?”

  With a small smile, Clair assured us. “It happened just as I told you. Now you know the truth. I was in his motel room, but he was alive and well when I left, except maybe being ready for a heart attack. He was so overweight. One of the pitfalls of being a food critique, I suppose.”

  Clair stood and smoothed her skirt. “I need more coffee.” From the kitchen, she said. “I must have lost my earring in the tumble on the bed. Didn’t know it was gone until I got home, and sure wasn’t going back to look for it.”