Death at the Day Lily Cafe (23 page)

Definitely a full moon, I thought as I started up the Miele.

Within a few minutes, Janice plopped down next to Gretchen. “Hey, Snow White,” I said as I unloaded a dish rack of coffee mugs. I looked up at her. Her blond hair was curled into soft waves. She had gone to some effort with her makeup, and her eyes were brighter than I'd seen in a long time. “You look stunning.”

She sat with a straight back and placed her palms on the bar. “Why, thank you. I went to New York a few days ago and had my hair done. And I bought a new outfit. What do you think?”

I came around from behind the counter so I could see her full regalia.

“Stand up and twirl,” Gretchen said.

Janice spun around. She was wearing a floral flouncy romper with a tie at the neckline ending in royal blue tassels. “It's a Trina Turk. What do you think?”

“You are gorgeous,” I said. “But not because it's a cute outfit. You're glowing. From within. And I haven't even given you an espresso bar.”

Janice sat down again. “I'll have green tea, please. And do you still have that arugula salad with goat cheese and pomegranate dressing?”

Gretchen and I exchanged glances.

Crystal walked up with a tray of dirty dishes. “Hello, Miss Janice.”

Janice stood and curtsied dramatically in front of Crystal. “My savior.”

Crystal smiled. “How's your essential oil lamp?”

“I'm using the calming oil at night. But I've started a watercolor class at the college. What's good for creativity?”

“I have the perfect blend. I'll mix it up tonight.” Crystal headed into the kitchen.

Janice grinned as she sat down. “That girl is Cardigan's best-kept secret.”

“Maybe she should open a woo-woo shop,” Gretchen said.

“So no coffee?” I asked Janice. “Or chocolate?”

“I'm avoiding foods that cause inflammation. Did you know inflammation can cause depression? Dropped three pounds in a week. And my hot flashes are history. Trevor has offered to buy Crystal a BMW.” Janice sipped her tea. “Well, not really. I just made that part up.”

“I'm so happy for you,” I said. “I'll go fetch you a salad.”

“I'll have one, too,” Gretchen chimed in as I pushed through the doors.

 

T
HIRTY
-
EIGHT

The black bean soup was a crowd favorite. I added coconut milk and pureed some of the beans to make it creamy. It came with a thick slice of corn bread and a Cuban salad.

“This needs to be on the permanent menu, my dear,” Glenn said.

“Really? Plain old black bean soup?”

“I don't know what you did to it, but if one person ordered it today, the rest of their party would take one taste and order their own.” Glenn began emptying his pockets. Crumpled bills unfurled on the bar. Only a few tables still had customers.

“I've been dying to ask you all day,” I said.

“Oh, really? I can't imagine about what.”

“Ha-ha. Not what. Who. What happened, Glenn?”

“First of all, I'm a terrible person.”

“Well, yes, everyone knows that.” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Glenn, how could you even think about calling yourself a terrible person?”

Glenn sat down and looked up at me. “I judged her, Rosalie. Without getting to know her. I thought she was frivolous just because she had such a pleasant demeanor.”

“Tell me about yesterday.”

“You know?”

“I saw you from Birdie's. You looked to be having a serious conversation.”

Glenn took a deep breath and exhaled. “She came into Birdie's to get the London
Times
. Doris orders it special for her. She asked me if I wanted to sit in the park, and I couldn't think of a way to say no so I did.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter. “I'm glad you said yes.”

“Frankly, so am I. Did you know she is widowed as well?”

“I always wondered why she ran the inn on her own.”

“You see, dear, she's lost the love of her life, too. She had a wonderful marriage to a man named Niall. They were married for thirty-six years. She asked me about Molly, and then she listened to what I had to say. We talked for a long time about our spouses and how much we miss them. It was lovely to share my experiences with her. And I think it helped her, too.”

“Oh, Glenn. I'm so happy for you. Are you going to start spending time together?”

“She's invited me over to the inn. We are going to show each other pictures of our families. Isn't that a lovely idea?”

“So you are embracing the fact that you both had wonderful loves. I like that, Glenn. And instead of worrying you might accidentally say Molly's name, you can talk about her anytime and Gretchen will understand.”

“Exactly. She's been through it herself. Who better to understand?”

Just as the last patrons stood up and dropped their napkins on the table, Doris hurried into the café. She strode over to the bar and waited for the diners to leave. Crystal followed them and looked over at me. She held the sign on the door. “Shall I?”

“Flip it,” Glenn and I said simultaneously.

“Have a seat,” Glenn said to Doris, and pulled out a bar chair.

She sat down hard. “Butch has ransacked Lori's house.”

“Oh my goodness,” I said. “When?”

“This afternoon. Lori was in the kitchen, and he barged in and started yelling at her, accusing her of knowing where the money was. When she denied it, he started tearing through the house, tossing furniture, emptying drawers.”

“Did she call the sheriff?” Glenn asked.

“No,” Doris said. “She can't stop crying.”

“Did he hurt her, Doris? Oh my goodness. If he murdered CJ trying to get the money…”

“He didn't hurt her,” Doris said.

“I wonder if he found the money,” Glenn said.

“Lori said no. But he's on a rampage.”

“We need to close up,” I said. “Then I'll take you out to Lori's.”

“I'll join you.” Glenn hopped up and began clearing tables.

 

T
HIRTY
-
NINE

Butch had nearly upended the entire contents of Lori's house. The furniture was thrown about and every drawer in the kitchen had been emptied out onto the floor. We found Lori on the screened-in porch hugging her knees and rocking.

Doris knelt down and enveloped Lori in her arms. “There, there,” she said. “He's gone now.”

Glenn eyed the dogs scrambling for the prime spot by the door. They were more agitated than ever, most likely due to the chaos coupled with their owner's distress. “Are all those dogs yours?” he said. It was his first visit.

Lori sniffled and nodded her head.

“Can I get you anything, Lori?” I said.

“I have some Valium upstairs in the medicine cabinet. I could sure use one.”

Doris patted Lori's shoulder.

“I'll be right back.” I climbed the stairs and looked around. There were only two bedrooms, both off a center hallway. The bathroom was next to the smaller bedroom. Butch had left the bathroom alone. The cabinet was open but orderly. After reading several prescription bottle labels, I learned that Lori had not only Valium and Xanax, she also had a powerful sleeping aid. I wasn't about to judge her. The cold-blooded murder of one's husband is enough to make anyone renew their refills.

I started down the stairs but decided to take a look around. Jamie's bedroom was small and sparse. His mattress was up against the wall, which was painted navy blue. The closet was open but empty except for a few wire hangers and opened shoe boxes.

Lori's room had been tossed about as thoroughly as the downstairs. The mattress and box spring were in a pile on the floor. Her clothes were strewn everywhere. Dresser drawers hung open like gaping mouths. A pair of Lori's panties had gotten caught on a knob. I gripped the orange pill bottle. The entire scene was a complete violation. Lori said Butch hadn't found the money. So it had to be here somewhere. I walked around the room, and then it hit me. I tossed the bottle in the air and caught it.

*   *   *

I found Doris in the kitchen returning contents to the drawers. Glenn was righting chairs. “Glenn, Doris?” They both stopped and looked at me. “I know where the money is.” I walked out to the porch with them in pursuit, and handed Lori her pill bottle and a glass of water. After she popped two in her mouth, I said, “You know where it is, Lori. I know you do. So can you please show us?”

Lori stared ahead. The dogs were calm now. The air was still and close. Not a leaf rustled in the trees.

“The money is in your bedroom, isn't it?”

“Lori?” Doris said. “Is Rosalie right about this?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“You've had it all along?” Doris said. “And you never said a
word
?”

“Let's go,” I said, “and get this over with once and for all.”

Lori stood. She moved as if riddled with arthritis. Doris looped her arm through her sister's, and the four of us ascended the stairs.

I led the way into Lori's bedroom. I turned to face her. “Which floorboards are loose?”

“What?” Doris said.

“Under the nightstand.”

I walked over to the ivory-painted chest and moved it aside. It was obvious which boards would pry loose. I slid my fingernails between two, and they came up easily. “This is why he put the new floor in, isn't it, Lori?”

“Yes,” she said in a weak voice.

The camouflage duffel was dusty, the zipper sealed shut. I lifted it out of the subfloor and brought it over to Lori.

“Will you look at that,” Glenn said.

“Is it all there?” Doris said, a hint of disgust in her voice.

“I never had any intention of spending it, Doris. The sheriff is already convinced I'm guilty. If he knew I had it, he would have locked me up weeks ago.”

“And maybe he
should
be locking you up.” Doris grabbed the duffel out of my hands and unzipped it with a flourish. She opened it wide and peered inside. “Well? Is there a secret compartment or something?”

Lori paled. “What do you mean?” She walked over to Doris. “Oh, oh my Lord.” She placed her hand over her heart. “It's gone.”

Glenn slipped his phone out of his pocket. “I believe it's time to call the sheriff.” He stepped out of the room. In a moment I heard him say, “Lila? It's Glenn Breckinridge.”

“Mom?”

“Who's that?” Doris said. “Is Jamie home?”

Lori's face was ashen. She shook her head as if waking up from a dream. “Wait, what?”

“Mom?” Jamie called in a louder voice. His footsteps were heavy on the stairs.

Doris dropped the duffel on the floor. “Good luck explaining this to him.”

“He said he wanted to talk to me about something,” Lori said. “He called me this morning.”

Jamie stepped in the room. It suddenly felt extremely small. “Explain what to me?” He was still in his uniform, but his shirt was unbuttoned most of the way. His thick, dark hair was damp with perspiration. He held a manila folder in his hand. “What's going on in here? Why is the house such a freakin' mess?”

“It's a long story,” Lori said, her eyelids heavy. Maybe she should have only taken one pill, I thought. “What did you need to talk with me about?”

Jamie glanced around the room then back at Lori. “It's pretty serious, Mom.”

“I don't have any more secrets from these people.”

“Yes, you do,” Jamie said in a measured voice. “You have one more, at least.”

Lori blinked several times. “I'm sorry?”

Jamie held up the folder. “I had a little blood work done.”

“What's wrong?” Doris said, taking a step toward him. “Are you sick?”

“Mom—”

“I need to sit down,” Lori said.

“Why don't we go downstairs?” Glenn dropped his phone in his shirt pocket and took Lori's arm. I followed. Doris walked over to Jamie.

“You don't have the cancer, do you?”

“No, Aunt Doris. My health is fine.”

We found Sheriff Wilgus in the foyer, eyeing the ransacked house. “Don't you clean houses for a living?” he said to Lori as she descended the stairs. “You must not get paid very much.” He chuckled to himself.

Glenn guided Lori into the kitchen and eased her into a chair. We all followed and gathered around the table—everyone except Jamie. He stood in the doorway, staring hard at the sheriff. Lori hugged herself tight, her eyes downcast, her face even paler than before.

“So Butch Wells did this?” the sheriff said.

“Yes,” Lori said in a barely audible voice.

“And he was looking for the money because you had it all along?”

“That's right, he was looking for the money.”

“How much have you spent of it?”

Lori looked up at him. “Not a cent. It's not my money. It belongs to the college.”

The sheriff shifted his weight. “So why didn't you give it back?”

“I wanted to. I begged my husband to return it. I even threatened to do it myself. And then after he died, I decided to wait until Rosalie figured out who murdered Carl James.”

He glowered at me. I immediately tensed. “
Rosalie
? You think Hart is going to figure out who murdered your husband?” He shook his head. “Oh, this is rich.”

“Sheriff Wilgus,” Glenn said, “maybe we should focus on who took the money. That will lead us to the murderer.”

“It already has,” he said. “And she's sitting right here.”

“But the money is gone,” Lori pleaded. “Someone took it from the floorboards without my knowing.”

Glenn rubbed his chin. “Maybe whoever killed CJ got him to say where the money was hidden. And it was just a matter of time before he came for it.”