Kernel of Truth (8 page)

I had an easy answer for that one. “You're supposed to believe me when I tell you what happened.”

He tapped his pen against the desk blotter. “I do, but there's going to come a point when someone else might not. Haley is going to pitch a fit if I have to arrest you for real. Please don't make me.”

“Did you realize that Allen Thompson was trying to buy Barbara's shop?” I blurted out.

Dan put away the bag with the threads from my sweater in it. “So?”

“Well, he was trying to buy Coco's, too. Had been for years.” Now it was my turn to give Dan a meaningful look.

Dan shrugged. “That's Allen's thing. He likes to buy property. It's a little greedy, but not prosecutable.”

“You don't think that's a little convenient? That two properties he was after owned by two little old ladies are suddenly coming available after the two aforementioned little old ladies were attacked?” There. I'd put it on the table.

Dan froze. “Let me get this straight. Are you implying that Allen Thompson—our mayor—is beating up old ladies to try to get their property? And alternately framing and clearing suspects?”

When he put it like that, it sounded ridiculous. “Maybe. Or maybe he wants it to look like there's a madman on the loose in Grand Lake so we'll all close our shops and sell them to him. You got Jasper too quick.”

“Rebecca, you have lost your mind.” He said it like it was a verifiable fact and not just his educated opinion. He minored in psychology at Oberlin. Somehow he thinks that makes him an expert.

I leaned forward. “Dan, I've seen him lurking behind my store. I thought he was there to check out Coco's property, but maybe he's making sure he picks up whatever evidence he left when he killed Coco, and he's casing my place and Annie's place, too. If he did kill Coco, he'd know what it looked like and be able to replicate it at Barbara's.”

“Rebecca, listen to yourself. First of all, Allen already owns your building. He doesn't need to bonk you over the head, as tempting as that may be.” He took my hand from across the desk. “I get it, Bec. Everyone's on edge. This is scary. But you're not doing yourself any favors by indulging in paranoid fantasies.”

I bit my lip. I wanted to argue. I wanted to fight. I wasn't paranoid. “I hate this, Dan.”

“Me, too, Bec. Especially since it's my job to make sure
this kind of stuff doesn't happen. Will you please stay out of this? Do not get into trouble I cannot get you out of.” He didn't sound angry. He sounded tired.

Dan had been working for years at keeping me out of trouble. I'd been the kid to jump on the tree swing before checking that it could hold me and to sled down the hill before checking for trees. Then there were my wild days in high school. Dan was always the one who was there to pick me up when I'd run out of gas, or hold me up when I'd had too much to drink, or hold me back when I was ready to coldcock someone. If I was trying to prove I was a responsible member of society, I might want to hold off on doing things that the sheriff had to get me out of.

“Sorry, Dan. I'll try.”

“Do more than try, Rebecca. Do a lot
more.”

Pretty much the
entire town turned out for Coco's funeral. The front page of the
Sentinel
was devoted to a profile of Coco and all she'd done for Grand Lake. Unfortunately, the below-the-fold article covered my arrest for breaking into Barbara's house. I closed the shop for the day, as did most of the shop owners on Main Street. We all wanted to pay our respects. Coco had truly been the Grand Dame of Grand Lake business. She'd started her shop when Main Street was a run-down couple of blocks close to the lake. She'd been the anchor for a lot of what came after. Pretty much anyone with a business in town owed Coco a debt of gratitude for that if not for something more concrete. Based on the turnout at the funeral, everyone knew it, too. We were all there in our Sunday best—or in my case, my best black cocktail dress. It wasn't one hundred percent appropriate for a funeral, but it was the closest thing I had to widow's weeds.

Haley had looked at me as I'd slipped in beside her and said, “A little flashy for a funeral, don't you think?”

“It's what I had.” I smoothed the chiffon down as much as I could.

“People will talk,” she said, staring straight ahead.

“There's nothing I can do about that. Besides, they'd talk no matter what I wore.” I looked around and saw most of Grand Lake's business owners. Annie. Bob. Camille. Jacqueline. Allen Thompson was there. Appropriate, although seeing him made me grit my teeth. I felt Annie stiffen as he walked down the aisle of the church past us. I patted her knee and she relaxed.

Then Jessica came down the aisle like a reverse negative bride, blond hair gleaming under black netting and against her plain black dress, being supported on the arm of Russ Meyer, son of Phillip Meyer. “How long have those two been an item?” I whispered to Haley, who sat on my other side.

She shrugged. “Couple of weeks. Not much longer than that.”

“I thought she and Jordan Peterson were practically engaged.” I was pretty sure it had been Brendan Hansen before that and maybe Kyle Cooper before Brendan.

Haley shook her head. “No. They broke up before you came back.”

“Why?”

Dan leaned forward to look at me around Haley, which was getting tricky considering how much space her tummy took up. “Quiet. You two can gossip later.”

I opened my mouth to protest and then snapped it shut. He was right. What did it matter anyway? It was Jessica's business and I did not want to be any part of anything that was Jessica's business. With Coco gone, I wouldn't be, either. I sighed and sat back in the pew.

Reverend Lee stood and walked up to the pulpit. He cleared his throat and the low thrum of whispers in the sanctuary quieted. “It is not often that I am so sad to see such a full church. We gather today to honor Cordelia Bittles, known fondly as Coco to all of us here in Grand Lake.”

There was a little murmur through the congregation and a choked sob from up in the front row. He smiled down at where Jessica must have been sitting. Then he went on. He talked about Coco's life, about how she started her business and how she helped other people start theirs. He talked about her kindness and her wit. Then he said, “And now Coco's niece, Jessica James, would like to say a few words.”

I looked over at Annie, who shrugged back at me. I supposed that Jessica was as good a person as any to do Coco's eulogy. She made her way up to the pulpit, looking even tinier than usual dwarfed by the soaring ceiling of the church. There was a nervous giggle that ran through the crowd as Reverend Lee fetched a little step stool over for her to stand on so she could be seen over the microphone.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming today to help me say good-bye to my aunt Coco,” she began, then had to take a second to compose herself. “I'm sure she would be tremendously pleased to see how many people came out to honor her today.”

Jessica dabbed her pink nose with a tissue. “Everyone knows what a wizard Aunt Coco was with chocolate. I doubt there's anyone in Grand Lake who hasn't had one of her truffles or one of her signature chocolate lighthouses or a mug of her amazing cocoa. Some of us have had all three at once.” She paused to let everyone laugh. “She touched so many lives and not just with her sweets. She gave generously of her money and time to charity. She helped businesspeople start new ventures.” And now Jessica made eye contact with me.

I nodded at her and tried to smile, but my face crumpled up as tears filled my eyes. I looked down to get a tissue out of my bag.

Jessica cleared her throat. “She seemed tireless to me as a child. Even though as an adult I could see her slowing down as she made plans to retire, her energy amazed me.”

I sat bolt upright as if I'd been singed on the behind with a kitchen torch, bumping my knee against the pew in front of me and knocking loose a hymnal. The sun must have slipped out from behind a cloud because suddenly the lamb in the stained glass window behind Jessica's head glowed. The black netting of her hat became a reverse halo and I could see worn spots in the industrial carpet that covered the pulpit. Annie and Haley both looked at me. I looked up at the pulpit, but Jessica was no longer making eye contact with me. “What?” Annie whispered to me.

“Coco wasn't planning on retiring,” I whispered back. “She was planning on starting a new business venture. With me.”

*   *   *

I barely heard
anything else anyone said for the rest of the service. Haley nudged me every time I was supposed to stand or sit or change position in some way. She gave up on getting me to read the responses.

I was too busy seething.

When the final prayer was said, the crowd started moving in that horrible stop-start motion toward the church basement. I paused at the end of the pew we'd been sitting in and turned to Haley. “I can't. I can't go down there.”

Haley's shoulders sagged. “Rebecca, you have to go down there. You know what will happen if you don't. There will be talk. Endless talk.”

“I don't care.” I heard a note of my teenaged self in my voice.

“Well, I do,” Annie said from behind me. Her voice had a surprising amount of steel in it. “This isn't about you, Rebecca. It isn't about Jessica, either. It's about Coco, and if you can't suck it up and act like a person for Coco then you are not the woman I thought you were.”

I drew back as if I'd burned myself on a hot pan. In fact, it felt a little bit like I'd been burned. “Jessica is lying,” I hissed. “Coco and I were making plans. Big plans. Not retirement plans.”

“So?” Annie snorted.

“So? So it makes me too damn mad.” I managed to stop myself from stamping my foot.

“So do people who leave their carts in parking spots at the grocery store and people who don't use their turn signals. Are you going to stop going to the store or driving?” Annie crossed her arms over her middle. “Rise above, Rebecca. Rise above. You know that's what Coco would have told you to do.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “I'll go, but I'm not speaking to Jessica.”

Haley mouthed “thank you” at Annie as if I couldn't see her and then we rejoined the zombie stumble of the crowd heading downstairs.

I damn near bolted again when we got into the basement and I saw what Jessica had set up for food at the reception. Amid the cakes and cookies and punch were popcorn bars and balls. They just weren't my popcorn bars or balls. She would have had to have driven at least thirty miles to get to another gourmet popcorn shop, but she'd done it. She'd done it to snub me.

“Keep walking,” Annie commanded. The grip she had on my elbow didn't brook much discussion anyway. “You'll notice the flowers didn't come from my shop, either, so stop whining and keep walking.”

I hadn't noticed that the flowers weren't from Blooms. I'd been too busy focusing on my own outrage. “I'm sorry,” I whispered.

“Whatever. It doesn't matter.” But I could hear in her voice that it did, like it mattered to me that my life's work had been deemed not good enough to honor Coco today.

I extricated my elbow from her pincerlike fingers. “You can stop frog marching me. I'm not bolting.”

She nodded. “Now let's go see what your competition is up to.”

Annie had a point. Jessica had done me what had to be a very unwitting favor. I could sample what were probably the best offerings of my nearest competitor without putting on a funny nose and glasses and sneaking through his shop. Not that I'd ever felt that Pete's Popcorn Emporium was much competition. Pete was two towns away and frankly wasn't worth the sea salt in my caramel.

I sidled over to the food table and grabbed two mini–popcorn balls and one bar. I will admit the bar irked me a bit. POPS's breakfast bars had been my own invention and had been crazy popular since I started offering them. I'm pretty sure the quality of my coffee was a factor, too. Bob's was a cute diner but that coffee tasted like lake water that had sat in the bottom of a boat for a while. Regardless, Pete had clearly been scouting me, and while imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery, it also pissed me off. As I scuttled toward the corner to really taste the bars thoughtfully to see if I needed to step up my game or if I could learn anything from his attempt, I ended up scooting between where Jessica was holding forth to a group of people and a knot of Jasper's friends who hung out at the park talking conspiracy theories and panhandling. The latter group were talking and filling
up their pockets with as much of the food they thought they could smuggle out without anyone noticing.

“I only hope that Jasper will finally get the help he clearly needs.” Jessica held a tissue to her lips and sniffled. “Even if he's not responsible for what happened to Aunt Coco, he's clearly more dangerous than any of us ever suspected. I mean, hitting Deputy Huerta over the head with a frying pan! He could have really hurt him! I know I will be doing my Christian best to forgive Jasper for whatever his involvement was.”

For a second, I thought I was going to gag.

Then, in the knot of Jasper's buddies, Tom Moffat said, “Well, if Coco had gotten married, settled down and had some kids none of this would have happened. It's what you get when women go out in the workplace and think they're in charge of everything. Tragedy. A goddamn tragedy, and it could have been avoided.”

I inhaled so sharply that I got a kernel of popcorn stuck in the back of my throat. Instead of scuttling safely to my corner to thoroughly examine my competitor's cheap imitation of my brilliant idea I suddenly could not get air into my lungs and the room started to go dim around the corners.

I glanced around, desperate for a glass of water to dislodge the wad that was stuck (was that caramel making it adhere to my soft tissue like glue?) and instead saw a ring of faces around me starting to blur into funhouse mirror shapes.

Then strong arms were grabbing me from behind. A fist was placed in my solar plexus and with a sharp upward thrust the popcorn clump flew from my mouth into a slimy saliva-covered wad on the industrial-grade carpet of the church basement floor.

I turned to face my rescuer.

“Garrett Mills, as I live and breathe,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Where did you learn to do that?”

He shrugged. “I made it through undergrad waiting tables at an upscale fish restaurant. Being able to Heimlich a fish bone out of the throat of a hungry diner was basic training.”

“Lucky me.” Although now that I looked around and realized that the entire room had gone still and silent to take a really good opportunity to stare at me, I wasn't feeling super-duper lucky anymore. I bent down and picked up the offending popcorn clod with my napkin. “I think I better get out of here.”

“I'll walk you.” He took my elbow and guided me toward the stairs. As we passed by Jessica, I heard her say, “Leave it to Rebecca to make a scene. Coco would be so embarrassed. And what is she wearing?”

I started to turn, but Garrett's grip on my elbow was surprisingly strong. Between him and Annie I was going to have bruises.

“Keep walking,” he whispered in my ear. “You don't want her biting your knee again.”

He had a point. I held my head high and walked.

Once we made it outside, he asked, “So what exactly led you to aspirate a giant hunk of popcorn ball?”

I shook my head and sat down on the church steps. “Stupid Tom Moffat spouting his misogynistic claptrap on the heels of Jessica mouthing platitudes about forgiveness and Jasper getting help made me want to scream. I accidentally breathed in the popcorn with the air I needed to tell them both exactly what I thought about them.”

Garrett sat down next to me. He slipped his suit jacket off and draped it around my shoulders. I hadn't even noticed how cold I was until I felt its warmth envelop me. It smelled good, too. Like laundry soap and sunshine. “I'm not sure
it's totally hypocrisy on Jessica's part,” he said. “She's visited Jasper every day since the arrest. Most days she brings him cookies.”

“Cookies?”

Garrett nodded. “Homemade ones at that.”

“How do you know that?” I demanded.

“Because even a philistine like me can taste the difference between a homemade cookie and a store-bought one.” He smiled, which made the corners of his eyes crinkle in a nice way.

“Not about whether or not the cookies are homemade, about the fact that Jessica is bringing Jasper cookies at all.” Dan hadn't said a word to me about it. I couldn't believe he'd tell Garrett.

“Yeah, well, I'm sort of representing him.” He ducked his head.

I jerked away from him. “You're what?”

“Representing him. It's a thing we lawyers do.” He leaned back on his elbows. “It's super fun if you like arguing with people.”

“But I thought you were the kind of lawyer who did wills and trusts and stuff. Not the kind who went to court and argued.” I twisted a little on the step to look him in the eye.