The Crêpes of Wrath: A Pancake House Mystery (16 page)

Lisa chewed thoughtfully on her crêpes. “You know,” she said after swallowing, “I might be able to shed some light on at least part of that mystery.”

“Really?”

“My uncle Emilio drives a taxi and he and Jimmy were good friends. Maybe Jimmy trusted him enough to get a ride with him.”

“But if your uncle picked up Jimmy from the hospital, wouldn’t the cab company have a record of it? The sheriff checked and came up empty.”

“Hmmm.” She set down her fork. “Let me check with Emilio anyway.” She dug her cellphone out of her purse and tapped out a text message.

As a group of departing diners headed for the cash counter, I excused myself and hurried over to help them. Once I’d seen them on their way, I ran my eyes over the occupied tables, assessing how everyone was doing. When my gaze swept over Lisa’s table, she waved at me and pointed to her phone.

I hastened across the dining area and reclaimed the seat across from her. “What did he say?”

“He
did
drive Jimmy home from the hospital that day.”

Hope bubbled up in my chest. “But why was there no record of it?”

“Emilio had just finished his shift. Jimmy called him on his cellphone to see if he was working and he told Jimmy he’d come get him, off the clock.”

Finally, some pieces to the puzzle. Energy buzzed through me. “So your uncle definitely dropped him off at his house? Was there anyone else around at the time? Did Emilio see anything unusual?”

Lisa tapped away at her phone, valiantly trying to keep up with my rapid questions.

I could hardly sit still. For so long I’d been spinning my wheels, getting nowhere, and now finally I might get some information.

“Hopefully he’ll respond soon,” Lisa said as she set down her phone and picked up her knife and fork.

Doing my best to contain my impatience, I refilled some coffee cups and took down an order, glancing Lisa’s way every few seconds. After she’d finished up her crêpes, she checked her phone for the umpteenth time and waved to me again. I hurried back to her table, ready to burst with anticipation.

“He says he dropped Jimmy off at home around quarter past eight,” Lisa said, reading the messages on her phone. “No one else was around and he didn’t see anything strange. When he heard about Jimmy getting killed, he was upset but had no idea that he was likely one of the last people to see him alive.”

“What about phone calls?” I asked. “Did he see or hear Jimmy make a call at any time?”

Lisa relayed my question through her phone and it buzzed in her hand a moment later. “Yes, Jimmy borrowed Emilio’s cellphone to make a call. His own phone was dead at the time. He called Emilio from a hospital pay phone.”

I sat back, absorbing the new information and piecing all the bits together.

“Does this help?” Lisa asked.

“Yes, it definitely helps.”

I smiled with relief as I realized how true my words were. Although I wasn’t any closer to knowing who had killed Jimmy, Emilio’s information proved two important points—Leigh didn’t lie about the phone call and Jimmy was still alive at eight o’clock, after Leigh had arrived at work.

I asked that Emilio relay his information to the sheriff, and Lisa assured me that she’d make certain that happened. Leaving her tapping away on her phone, I got up and made a beeline for Leigh. Although she was on her way to take down an order, I took her arm and steered her into the back hallway.

“What’s going on?” she asked as we came to a stop out of sight of the diners.

“I’ve got good news,” I said, barely able to contain my excitement. “Lisa’s uncle drove Jimmy home from the hospital and dropped him off at home after eight o’clock.”

It took only a second or two for Leigh to absorb my words and realize their implication. Her eyes lit up with hope. “He was still alive when I arrived at work.”

“Exactly. Plus, Lisa’s uncle also said that Jimmy borrowed his cellphone to make a phone call.”

Leigh grabbed my arm. “Does this mean I’m in the clear?”

“Sheriff Georgeson hasn’t heard any of this yet but once he does, I don’t see how you could possibly still be a suspect.”

Leigh released my arm and leaned back against the wall, her eyes closing with relief. “Thank God.”

“I’m going to call the sheriff right now, just to give him a heads-up about all this.”

Her eyes open again, Leigh smiled at me and blinked back tears. “Thank you, Marley. You’ve taken an enormous weight off my shoulders.”

I gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad.”

I let her return to the front of the restaurant and shut myself in the office. As soon as I’d navigated around the piles of paper still stacked on the floor, I plunked myself down in the desk chair and scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I found Ray Georgeson’s name.

Unfortunately, my call went to voicemail. I left a short message with a brief summary of what Lisa’s uncle had told us. I hoped Emilio would talk to Ray before the day was over and that Leigh could get official confirmation that she was no longer a suspect.

Sitting back in my chair, I gave myself a minute or two to enjoy the relief that came with knowing that Leigh’s name was—or would soon be—cleared. I didn’t give myself any more time than that, though. I still had several other problems to tackle.

Trading my seat in the chair for one on the floor, I got to work sorting through the remaining papers the intruder had scattered, hoping to find a clue to unravel one or more of the mysteries that lingered in the spotlight of my mind.

After closing up and leaving the pancake house in the middle of the afternoon, I tried calling Ray a second time, but once again reached only his voicemail. I didn’t bother to leave another message and instead made myself a cup of tea and flopped down onto the couch next to Flapjack. When I checked my phone, I saw that I had a text message from Cassidy, expressing dismay and sympathy over the news of Jimmy’s death.

A pang of loneliness hit me, and I set my phone aside after sending a short message in reply. I didn’t want to think about all the people I was missing, whether they were dead or simply far away. It would be easier to focus on other things.

Before closing time I’d managed to finish sorting through the mess in the office, and although it was nice to have that job out of the way, I hadn’t found anything that provided even the slightest insight into the intruder’s motivations. If I hoped to have any chance of solving Jimmy’s murder, identifying the intruder, or figuring out why stolen goods were stashed in Jimmy’s workshop, I’d need to unearth more information.

The problem was that I wasn’t sure where to dig. At the moment, Gerald Teeves and Daryl Willis were at the top of my list of murder suspects, so I figured it would be a good idea to focus my investigation on them. I was still in the midst of coming up with my plan of action when a car door slammed nearby. I hesitated with my mug of tea halfway to my mouth, apprehension tensing my muscles. The last thing I wanted right then was another visit from Gerald Teeves or Chantel Lefevre.

As I set my tea on the coffee table, another possibility crossed my mind.

Maybe it was Brett.

That thought got me up off the couch. When I reached the foyer, someone knocked on the door. I took a look through the peephole and cursed under my breath. It wasn’t Gerald Teeves, but it wasn’t anybody I wanted to see, either. I wondered if I could slip away from the door or if they’d already heard my footsteps.

A fist pounded against the door again, almost making me jump. Rolling my eyes, I unlocked the door and opened it.

“Hi,” I said to Goldie Krantz, offering a slight smile but nothing too enthusiastic. I didn’t want to encourage her in any way.

As it turned out, she didn’t need any encouragement.

“Oh, it’s just so hard to bear!” she exclaimed as she shoved her way past me and into the house.

“Um…” Eyebrows raised, I stared after her as she bustled into the front living room.

Come on in and make yourself at home,
I wanted to grumble, but somehow I managed to refrain.

It didn’t surprise me at all when Jonah sidled through the door after his mother. Although I hadn’t spotted him at first, he always seemed to be hovering somewhere not too far away from Goldie.

With a sigh, I shut the front door, resigned to the fact that they were going to take up some of my time. Jonah had hesitated in the middle of the foyer, his eyes scanning the area. When I came up behind him, he jerked his gaze away from the office and entered the living room.

I followed in his wake, stopping just inside the door. Jimmy had rarely used this room. It was the most formal one in the house, with a settee and two wingback chairs upholstered in matching rosy pink fabric. The cream-colored carpet was thick underfoot and extended into the adjoining dining room. Grace’s collection of Royal Doulton figurines decorated the fireplace mantel and the built-in shelves on either side of it. Cream and rosy pink weren’t colors that Jimmy had ever favored, but Grace had decorated this room and her touch was evident everywhere. It didn’t surprise me in the least that Jimmy hadn’t changed a thing.

Goldie sniffled loudly and dropped onto the settee. “Isn’t it so tragic?”

“Isn’t what tragic?” I asked, distracted.

My focus was on Jonah, who was now standing by the fireplace and eyeing the Royal Doulton figurines. Maybe he simply had an interest in collectable figurines, but he was so shifty that I wasn’t about to put it past him to slip one or two of them into his pocket.

“Jimmy’s death, of course,” Goldie said.

“Right.” I got back on track. “Yes, it is a tragedy.”

Goldie produced a handkerchief from one of her pockets and dabbed at her dry eyes.

I didn’t want to endure any more of her theatrics, but I did my best to contain my annoyance. It wasn’t easy, however, especially since I noticed her taking in the room with calculating eyes from behind her handkerchief.

“I’m actually quite busy at the moment,” I said, resorting to a lie in the hope of getting rid of my unwanted guests. “Was there something you wanted?”

Goldie sniffled again. “It’s more about what Jimmy wanted.”

“Sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

She pushed her rotund form up off the settee and ran a finger along the edge of a crystal vase sitting on an end table. “Jimmy knew how much I admired some of the gorgeous things in this room, especially this vase and the pretty figurines. He always said that my companionship was such a comfort to him and that he wanted me to have these things as a token of his affection and appreciation.”

Disgust built up dangerously inside of me, but Goldie continued talking, unaware of the effect of her words.

“Naturally, I told him I couldn’t possibly accept them, but he insisted. I hadn’t yet had a chance to come pick them up, but of course I never knew that we would run out of time so soon.” She cried into her handkerchief.

Or, as I suspected, pretended to cry.

Boiling anger worked its way up through my chest. I didn’t believe for one second that Jimmy had considered giving away any of the items in the room, especially not to Goldie. Grace had cherished the figurines and the Waterford crystal vase. Some of the items had come to her from her mother and held significant sentimental value in addition to their monetary worth. I had no doubt that they’d held sentimental value for Jimmy as well after Grace passed away.

Besides, I remembered what Lisa had told me a few days earlier. Goldie might want me to believe that she and Jimmy had been close right up until the day of his death, but, according to Lisa, their relationship—whatever it might have entailed—had ended weeks ago.

Frankly, I found it surprising that Jimmy had been involved with the loathsome woman for any length of time, but perhaps loneliness had pushed him in that direction. Even if he did, for whatever reason, have some measure of affection for Goldie, I simply couldn’t swallow the story she was trying to feed me.

I forced myself to speak through my anger. “You’re saying the two of you had an agreement that he would give you the vase and figurines?”

“Yes, precisely.” A hint of greedy hunger flickered in her eyes before she covered them again with her handkerchief. “Oh, Jimmy. He was such a generous soul.”

“And do you have any evidence of such an agreement?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“I…” Goldie lowered her handkerchief, her face bewildered. “Evidence?”

“Such as a written agreement stating Jimmy’s intention to gift the items to you?”

Annoyance flashed across her face before she smoothed out her features. “Oh, we didn’t need anything so formal.”

“I’m afraid you do now,” I said. “He didn’t leave those items to you in his will and without any other evidence to support the existence of an agreement, everything will stay where it is.”

She couldn’t hide her annoyance this time. “Well,” she huffed, “I never.” She bustled past me toward the hallway, but then stopped and turned back. “Who knows if those items were really his to begin with.”

“They belonged to his wife, Grace,” I said, not sure what she was getting at.

Goldie sniffed. “So he might have told you.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jonah answered instead of his mother. “It’s all over town that Jimmy was a thief. The word is that he was the one responsible for the recent break-ins.”

Hot anger rushed through me. “Jimmy was not a thief.”

Jonah shrugged, uninterested.

Goldie dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief again, back to her grief-stricken routine. “All I wanted was something to remember Jimmy by.”

“From what I’ve heard, Jimmy hadn’t had anything to do with you for weeks.”

Goldie’s façade slipped away. Her nostrils flared and she glared at me with undisguised hatred. “You shouldn’t listen to rumors.”

I met her glare straight on. “Neither should you.”

Goldie huffed again and spun around. “Let’s go, Jonah.”

She stormed out the front door.

Jonah frowned but sidled through the door after her.

I stood on the front steps, watching as they climbed into an ancient maroon station wagon, Jonah at the wheel. It wasn’t until they’d exited the driveway and turned onto the road that I finally went back inside and shut the door.

Seething, I returned to the family room at the back of the house and dropped onto the couch.

That woman! I couldn’t believe her gall.

And someone was spreading rumors about Jimmy being a thief. That only added to my heated emotions. Jimmy’s name being tarnished was exactly what I’d wanted to avoid, but I’d obviously failed in that respect. I didn’t know how the rumor had started, but it probably didn’t take much for any scrap of information to get spread around town with some distortion of facts along the way.

I jumped up off the couch and paced up and down in front of it, unable to remain sitting. Flapjack lifted his head and regarded me from his spot on the windowsill. Seconds later, he tucked his head between his paws and went back to sleep. I paused by the French doors and stared out at the ocean, trying to calm myself.

The tide was a long way out, leaving an expanse of wet sand between the breaking waves and the high water mark. A seagull dipped into view before flapping off out of sight and two children ran along a sandbar, heading for the tidal pools. I allowed the familiar scene to soothe me and after a few deep breaths, my anger dissipated and my muscles relaxed.

There was no point in wasting my energy on Goldie and Jonah Krantz. I had far more important things to focus on. But while I’d calmed down, my mind still wasn’t clear enough to work efficiently on any mental tasks. I decided to give myself some time, to keep my hands busy while my thoughts settled. There were plenty of chores within the house that needed my attention, and I figured I might as well get something done while I recovered from my unpleasant encounter with Jimmy’s ex–lady friend and her son.