Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) (6 page)

“No, this time I meant it,” she said.

“Thanks, but I’m happy with the way things are.”

“I’ll go, but you have to make me a promise first. If you see or hear anything else, come get me before you decide to do anything stupid. Agreed?”

“If there’s time for it, sure, but what if I don’t have a chance? I may have to react immediately if something else happens.”

She thought about that for a few seconds. “Okay, I suppose that would be all right. Just don’t go getting yourself hurt, or something even worse.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” I said, trying to force a grin that I didn’t feel. “Now go to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and we need what little sleep we have a chance to get now.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to nod off, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

After Annie was back upstairs, I toyed with the idea of staying awake in case I was wrong about our surprise guest coming back, but the only purpose that would serve would be to deprive me of some much-needed sleep. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses from the pantry. After stacking them in front of the front door, I decided that if anyone tried to get in again, the glasses would fall and serve as an alarm. I doubted that any fictional detective would create such a haphazard alarm system, but I was tired, it was late, and morning would be arriving much too soon for my taste. It would just have to do, but I made a mental note to take them down before the women got up. Just because I was a little spooked, there was no reason to share my fears with them.

It must have helped, as little a measure as it was, because to my surprise, I managed to fall back asleep fairly quickly, and I didn’t wake up again until I felt someone’s presence looming over me where I slept.

Chapter 8: Annie

“G
lasses? Really? Please tell me that you got thirsty last night and decided to get a couple of drinks of water,” I said as I grinned down at my brother, holding his primitive burglar alarm system in my hands.

“It was the best I could do, given the situation,” Pat admitted.

“Actually, it’s kind of clever,” I said. “I would have moved the chair in front of the door if I’d been sleeping down here, so you’re braver than I was.”

“I doubt that,” he said as he stood and stretched. “I can’t believe I fell back asleep. How about you? Did you have any luck?”

“Amazingly, yes. Has Aunt Della been downstairs yet?”

“How would I know? You woke me up, remember?”

“Pat, could something have happened to her last night?” I hadn’t even considered the possibility that whoever had tried to visit us the night before would really come back, but now I was getting worried. I headed for the stairs, with Pat close on my heels.

We nearly collided with Della as she came out of her room, dressed for the day and clearly perplexed by our behavior. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said.

She didn’t quite buy that. Was there a grin on her face as she asked, “You were worried about me, weren’t you?”

“Okay, I admit it,” I said. “So, why would that make you smile, given the circumstances?”

“It’s been quite some time since anyone’s been concerned about my welfare. Is it my fault that I like the feeling?”

“Of course not,” I said.

“What would you two like for breakfast?” she asked us as we all made our way back down the stairs.

“I’m really sorry, but we can’t eat with you,” Pat said.

“What? Why not? You have to eat something,” Della protested.

“We’re going to the diner downtown,” Pat said. “I think it’s called Moe’s.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making you something better than you’ll get there,” our aunt protested. “What kind of hostess, let alone aunt, would I be to send you down there for your meals?”

“Do I need to remind you that we aren’t here for the food, or the company?” Pat asked her gently. “Annie and I need to get the lay of the land, and the best way for us to do that is to have breakfast at the diner.”

“Very well. I suppose it sounds like fun at that, but I’m getting the check. I understand their waffles are quite good.”

I didn’t want to make Pat be the one who had to tell her that she couldn’t join us, so I spoke up first. “Aunt Della, nobody’s going to talk to us if you’re sitting there with us.”

“Of course they will,” she said. “That’s utter nonsense.”

“They’ll talk,” Pat agreed, “but not about the case. We’ve done this before, remember? That’s why you asked us for our help. You’re going to have to just trust us.”

“I do. Of course I do.”

“Then we’ll see you later,” Pat said. “I need to get dressed, and then we’re off.”

Pat grabbed his bag and went into the powder room on the first floor. Since I’d already changed, I was already ready to go.

“Your brother is not my biggest fan, is he?” Della asked me after he was out of the room.

“You have to admit that it’s a lot to take in at one time,” I said, making excuses for my brother, a habit that we’d both acquired over the years. “He’s trying really hard, though. You need to cut him some slack.”

“You don’t seem to be having any problems with the situation,” she said to me.

“Why, because I’m the only one who’s calling you ‘Aunt Della’ at the moment? Don’t kid yourself. I’m as thrown off by this situation as my brother is. We just have very different ways of showing it.”

Della nodded. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You two always did stick up for each other, even as toddlers.”

“It’s what we do,” I agreed. “I hope you don’t mind staying here while we go out investigating.”

“Do you mean that I’m restricted to the house?” she asked, clearly unhappy with that prospect.

“Della, someone’s trying to kill you. Don’t you think it would be prudent to keep a low profile until Pat and I have had a chance to look around first?”

“Aunt Della,” she reminded me.

“Maybe Pat is right. When I call you ‘aunt,’ you aren’t nearly as cooperative,” I said with a smile to ease the sting of my words.

“What if we use my presence to flush the killer out into the open?” she asked. “That would work, wouldn’t it? I can be the bait in your trap.”

“You’ve been watching too many detective shows on television,” I replied.

“Is the idea really that bad?”

“No, but we’re not going to try anything like that unless things get really desperate. I’m not about to risk your life foolishly. I know it’s not glamorous, but for the next few days, you need to stay right where you are and let my brother and me figure this out.”

“What if whoever tried to break in this morning comes back while you’re gone?” she asked me, letting a little of the fear she must be feeling through in her voice.

“Do you have any way of protecting yourself here?” I asked her.

“You mean like a gun? Of course not.”

I wasn’t all that surprised, but she had to have something she could use in self-defense, if only to make her feel more comfortable while we were gone. “How about a baseball bat?”

“I don’t do sports,” she said diffidently.

“Let me poke around downstairs while Pat’s getting ready and see what I can come up with.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said. “It’s quite a mess down there.”

I unlocked the door, flipped the light switch on, and started down the stairs. This place was creepy in the daytime. Pat had been braver than I’d realized going down there by himself the night before in the darkness.

I looked around at the jumble of things as Aunt Della said, “Sorry about the mess. I keep promising myself that I’ll clean this up someday, but the piles seem to get higher each year.”

“I get it,” I said, though I’d never be able to live like that, even if my tiny cabin in the woods had a fraction of the storage my aunt’s place had. I saw a thick wooden dowel leaning against an old pedal sewing machine, and I grabbed it. It was about four feet long and at least two inches thick, and I wondered if it had been used as a closet rod at some point. “This will do.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked unhappily.

“I’d say swing for the fences,” I answered with a grin.

My humor was lost on her. It was my own fault; she’d warned me that she wasn’t a sports fan, so the baseball reference was completely lost on her. “Use it to defend yourself if anyone tries to get you. Which they won’t. I promise.”

Della took the rod from me as she cranked one eyebrow upward. “How exactly can you make a promise like that?”

“Okay, I can’t guarantee anything. I’m just trying to make you feel better. How am I doing?”

“Let’s go back upstairs, shall we?” she suggested, ignoring my question completely.

I was all for getting out of there.

Pat was waiting for us just outside the basement door when we walked out into the hallway. “There you are. I thought you two might have deserted me.”

“We were just arming Aunt Della,” I explained.

He looked at the heavy wooden dowel in her hands and nodded. “That should work.”

“I’m not at all sure that I like this,” Della said.

“We can look for something else you could use as a weapon, if you’d prefer,” I said.

“I’m not talking about that. I mean the idea of you two walking around town asking questions about me.”

“First of all, the questions aren’t going to primarily be about you, and second, if we can’t make inquiries, then why are we here?” Pat asked.

“Oh, very well. Just be careful, will you?”

“We’ll do our best, but we can’t make any promises,” I said as Pat and I grabbed our jackets and headed out on foot into the crisp morning air toward the diner.

It was time to get something to eat, but more importantly, we needed to start digging around our aunt’s life, no matter what Pat had just told her. Motive was the key to this puzzle, and without uncovering it, we’d just be spinning our wheels on the ice.

“Welcome to Moe’s,” a thin waitress in her forties greeted us as Pat and I walked into the worn-out diner. Her name tag pegged her as Regina, but I wasn’t about to call her by name. She probably got enough tag reading as it was. The place was three quarters full at the moment, and just like home, there was a wide array of hats perched on the heads of nearly all of the men eating there. Advertising everything from tractors to sports teams, the caps made me miss my own grill back home. The colorful caps had always reminded me of peacocks, strutting their colors for all to see. The diner’s ratio at the moment was probably four men for every woman present, and everybody in the place had a cup of coffee in front of them.

“Hi, Regina,” Pat said with a broad smile. She didn’t react to it with anything more than a “hey.”

“You can sit anywhere that’s not already taken,” she said. “Need menus?”

“That would be great,” I said as I reached for them. I started to sit at the counter, but Pat tapped my shoulder. “How about over there?” He pointed to a spot near the front window where we could hear what was going on around us without being directly involved in any of the conversations.

“Sure, that’s fine,” I said.

Regina was there in short order, and without even being asked, she flipped our coffee cups over and filled them to the brim. “What can I get you?”

“Two eggs, over medium, bacon not crispy, scattered hash browns that are, and two pieces of buttered white toast,” Pat said.

“Ma’am?” she asked after jotting my brother’s most specific order down on her pad.

“How’s the oatmeal?” I asked her.

“We don’t get too many complaints,” Regina said.

I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. “I’ll have the oatmeal, then.”

“Is that it?” she asked me incredulously.

“For now.”

After she was gone, I asked my brother, “Are you sure we shouldn’t be sitting at the bar near the register where everything’s happening?”

“Annie, I know it goes against your nature to stay out of the fray, but we can’t just dive in and start asking questions about Della and Cheryl.”

“Why not?” I asked him.

“Why not indeed?” a man sitting solo in the booth beside us asked as he left his place and joined us without being asked. He was wearing a flannel shirt and faded blue jeans, so his uniform matched most of the men present, and a few of the ladies as well. He carried his coffee mug with him, and as he slid in beside my brother, he put it down on the table. “What brings you two to town?”

“We’re here visiting family,” I said.

“Oh, really? Anybody I know?”

Pat raised an eyebrow. “How could we possibly have any idea of everybody that you know?”

The stranger chuckled. “That’s a point. Why don’t you try me and we’ll see?”

“Della Mahoney,” I said.

There was a slight hitch to his smile before he answered, “I know Della.”

“Did you know Cheryl Simmons as well?” I asked him.

A cloud covered his face for a moment. “That’s a real shame, what happened to her. Did you two know her through Della?”

“We never met her,” Pat said. That was my brother, honest to the point of it being a character flaw. “Has there been any more news about what happened?”

The stranger leaned forward as he whispered, “Don’t quote me, but I heard she got conked on the noggin, rolled into the water unconscious, and drowned. I don’t know how they can tell these things for sure, but evidently they can.”

“If there’s water in her lungs, then she had to have breathed in,” I said. “If not, she was dead before she hit the lake.”

“Are you two some kind of detectives or something?” he asked me.

“We read a lot of books and we watch a lot of television, too,” Pat said, no doubt trying to keep our real purpose secret for a little while longer.

“Ghastly stuff, that. I’ll take an old-fashioned western any day.”

“Book or movie?” Pat asked him. My brother had also been known to watch or read an oater on more than one occasion. What was it about the romance of the old west that appealed to so many men? Given the choice, I’ll take the miracles of modern drugs and air conditioning ten out of ten times myself.

“Both,” he admitted.

Before they could start discussing their favorite westerns, I decided to try to keep the conversation from being derailed. “Why would anyone want to kill Cheryl Simmons?”

“That’s a fair question,” the man said. “She was wearing Della’s hat, from what I heard.”

“It was her jacket,” I blurted out before being able to stop myself. I wasn’t sure if we should have kept that fact a secret, but it was too late for that now.

“That makes more sense than just a hat,” the man said and then took a large sip of coffee. “From the back, and in the dark to boot, I doubt anyone would be able to tell Cheryl from Della, and I’ve known them both for years. Do you two think that attack was made for your cousin?”

“Actually, she’s our aunt,” I said. “We’re twins.”

“The three of you?” he asked incredulously.

“No, just me and my brother,” I said. Had he not just heard the “aunt” designation?

He studied us both for a moment before replying. “No offense, but you don’t look anything alike to me.”

“We’re fraternal, not identical. That means that we were in the same womb at the same time, but in different eggs,” Pat explained.

“Speaking of eggs, here yours come. Would you like me to leave so you can have some peace and quiet while you eat?”

“No, please stay,” I said. We might be able to get some information out of this stranger, and I hated to pass up the chance.

After Regina delivered our orders, she asked, “You need anything, Gary?”

“No, I’m good,” he said.

My spoon hovered over my oatmeal. “Are you Gary White, by any chance?”

He looked surprised by my identification. “How could you possibly know that? I know for a fact that I didn’t introduce myself when I joined you.”

“You made it a point not to, didn’t you?” Pat asked him. “Could that have anything to do with the threats you made against our aunt a few days ago?”

“Hang on there, partner. I didn’t make any threats toward anyone. Did Della say that I did?”