Trunk Show Murder (A Seagrove Cozy Mystery Book 2) (6 page)

“If you say so.” Lucy looked at the old grandfather clock near the office. “Is that the time? I’ve got to go. Spain, right? Let me know when so I can work my schedule around it.”

After Lucy left Sadie went to help Betty tidy things up. There had been some mud hiding under the bottom of some of the syrup buckets and it had flaked onto the floor. While she was sweeping the chief came in.

“I’m headed over to the Ocean View for some dinner,” he said. “Would you like to come?”

Sadie perked up. She’d been feeling done in, but the Ocean View was one of her favorite places to eat. The food was basic but good. And the view was spectacular.

“Sure, I’ll come,” Sadie said. She nodded to the back office. “Should we ask Betty if she wants to come?”

Chief Woodstone looked surprised, but Betty came in pulling her bag over her shoulder.

“No thanks,” she said. “I’ve got plans. See you tomorrow, Sadie.”

“If you’re sure you don’t want to come,” Sadie said.

“Sadie, when a guy asks you on a date, it’s bad form to invite a third person. You should know that.” Betty shook her head in disbelief and left.

“Date?” Sadie turned to Chief Woodstone. “Did you ask me on a date?”

“Uh, yup. At least I thought I was. Apparently I didn’t make that clear,” the Chief said.

“I’m sorry. I just thought you were being social. You know, I’ll grab my buddies and go to dinner,” Sadie said.

“It was kind of like that,” the Chief said. “Only it was more I’ll go grab my favorite woman and get a bite to eat. I’ll be sure to make that clear next time. Does Mr. B. need a walk before we go?”

Sadie liked that the chief hadn’t forgotten Mr. Bradshaw. She thought it was a good sign, although a good sign for what she couldn’t have said. She shook her head.

“Mr. Bradshaw is fine. He’s having his early evening siesta. I’ll walk him when I get back.”

The chief drove up the coast and soon they were sitting on the outdoor patio at the Ocean View under an umbrella heater. The evening light was reflecting off the ocean as the sky to the west turned pink and purple.

“Is this our first date?” Sadie asked. She was only half joking.

“Don’t you think you would know if you’d been on a date with me?” The Chief asked.

“Clearly not. I had no idea that this was a date until Betty told me.” Sadie squinted across the table at him. “And I’m not sure you would have told me if she hadn’t brought it up. So spit it out, is this our first date, or not?”

“It’s the first time I’ve considered it a date,” he said. “Before now it’s been a social - a hanging out with friends and getting a bite to eat thing.” He smiled and winked.

Sadie wondered if that were true, or if the other times they’d hung out together counted as dates in his mind. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t a date unless she knew it was a date.

“So,” she said. “Our first date. I can’t remember the last time I was on a date. Somehow, I don’t think I was nearly this unconcerned on my last date.”

“I’m not sure how to take that,” he said.

"You should be flattered, I usually get nervous and have to excuse myself to throw up in the bathroom. Not that I tell my date that. It's not his fault I don't have any social skills," she said.

"You throw up on dates?" He sounded appalled and fascinated at the same time. "What do you do about your breath afterward?"

"Oh, I always carry gum. You never know when it might come in handy." She paused a moment. "That's not true. I know when it comes in handy and that's why I carry it." She opened her bag and pulled out a pack. "See. I've got some now. But I won't need it unless I eat something really stinky. I'm perfectly at ease with you Chief."

She smiled at him. She did feel at ease, and also a few little butterflies in the stomach. Which was not the same as the crippling anxiety that caused her stomach to refuse all food. That was unpleasant. This was not.

"Could you agree not to call me Chief while we're on a date?" he asked. "Zack is the name."

"Sure, Zack," she said, but it didn't feel right. She hoped she could get used to it. "What are you going to order?"

"Seafood. No point in coming to the ocean and eating beef. I'm thinking scallops and prawns and maybe some muscles," he said. "How about you?"

"Are muscles eaten raw?" she asked. "Somehow I could never understand how someone would want to eat raw seafood."

"Oysters are eaten raw and clams, but I think Muscles are mostly cooked. I eat them cooked."

"Oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac," Sadie said. "But I've always thought it's because of the risk involved in eating them raw, not that they have any special characteristic. Not that I would know. Raw seafood. Yuck.”

“All this talk about tossing your cookies when you are on a date. Did that really happen, or are you just testing me,” Zack asked.

“Why would I test you?” Sadie asked. “It’s not like I don’t know who you are.”

“Because some people are different in public than they are in private,” He said. “And maybe you want to be sure I’m the same.”

“One test at dinner wouldn’t answer that question. That’s an ongoing investigation.” She looked at him sternly. “No, that was the truth. I often throw up on dates. Sometimes I’ll get through three dates where I still can’t eat or feel at all comfortable. That’s when I give up. If I’m not comfortable with someone after three dates, then forget it. It’s not worth the hassle.”

“So it’s a plus, being on a date with a guy you are already comfortable with?” he asked.

“Now you’re fishing. But yes. It’s a plus. It saves us both a lot of time. But there are risks too.” She watched him to see if he understood her meaning.

“Because if this doesn’t work out we could lose the friendship,” he said. “That’s why it’s taken so long for me to ask you out. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“So why now?” she asked.

“Two reasons. One, if it didn’t work out, I think we know each other well enough to stay friends. And two, I can’t see why it wouldn’t work out. If I can put up with your shenanigans in my work life it should be a piece of cake in my home life.” He grinned at her.

Sadie felt her smile spread. Instead of butterflies she now had a warm, comfortable feeling in her stomach. Then two things happened simultaneously. The chief’s cell rang and their food was delivered. Sadie saw the look on the chief’s face and took a bite of her food. If the furrow between his brows was any indication, she’d have time for two, maybe three bites before they were out of there.

She ate fast, burned her mouth and got four bites in before he was signaling the waiter to box up their food. He dropped a trio of twenties on the table and they grabbed their to-go bags as they were headed out the door.

“So what’s up?” she asked as they climbed back in the jeep.

“There has been a break-in at the town offices,” he said. “Normally, I’d leave this to my officers but apparently it’s a big mess.” He reached out the window and stuck a flasher on top of his Jeep and pulled quickly into traffic.

They were at the town offices in five minutes. It took another five to make their way through the protective layers of police officers and detectives into the mayor’s office. It was a royal mess.

“Whoever tossed this place was desperate and in a hurry,” the chief said. “What we know?”

A detective stepped forward. “Not much, Chief,” he said. “The alarm went off and by the time we got here whoever broke in was gone. They left a hell of a mess. Who knows if they found what they were looking for.”

Sadie looked around the room. It hadn’t been cleared from when Marjorie was mayor there were pictures of Marjorie and her family scattered on the floor. The books had all been swept off the shelves and some had landed and broken the glass and frames. She bent over and picked up an especially poignant picture of Marjorie and Britt and shook the glass off of it.

“You shouldn’t really be touching anything ma’am,” an officer behind her said.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just thought Britt would like to have this,” Sadie said and set the picture on the credenza. She looked at the chief. “I shouldn’t be here,” she said. “This seems less like a crime scene and more like a betrayal to me. I’m forgetting procedure.” She blinked back tears.

“Do you need me to take you home?” He asked.

“No. I can easily walk from here, and it’s not late.” She held up the bag with her uneaten meal. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime,” he said. “In fact, another time, soon.”

Sadie nodded and made her way across the glass littered floor to the door. She nodded to the officer that was guarding the entrance, the same man who had given her away the last time she was in town hall. That was okay. He was just doing his job.

It was a perfect summer night except for the fact that someone had maliciously wrecked a dead woman’s office. What could she have possibly had in there to justify such destruction? Sadie wondered about that all the way home. Then she grabbed Mister Bradshaw’s leash him to go out to the park for his evening run and thought about it some more. It occurred to her that the murder and the ruin of Marjorie’s office might not be directly related. Maybe the murderer made the break-in possible, but it wasn’t the same person.

Sadie chewed this scenario over in her mind for a while but didn’t come to any solid conclusions. She was still tossing it over in her mind when she and Mr. B. went inside for the night.

The next morning Sadie loaded Mister Bradshaw in the car and drove back out to the college. There was a breeze coming up over the bluff from the ocean and Mister Bradshaw stuck his nose in the air to sniff. Sadie took a deep breath too, enjoying the salt smell of the ocean air. They made their way to the humanities building and into Professor Ives’s office.

Sadie had called ahead, so she knew he had office hours. Luckily, there were no students waiting for him this early in the morning and she walked right in and sat down with Mister Bradshaw at her heel.

“Good morning, Professor Ives,” she said.

“Good morning, Ms. Barnett,” he said.

“Please call me Sadie,” she said.

“Only if you call me Justin,” he said.

“Fine, Justin, what can you tell me about Britt Rumstocking?”

“Not much without breaking student confidentiality,” he said.

“If you’re talking about her poor grades, I already know about that,” she said.

“But where did you find out about it? If Britt didn’t tell you, then I should not be talking about it.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“We could call her,” Sadie said. “And she could give you permission.”

“Written permission,” he said.

“Why are you obstructing me?” Sadie asked.

“Maybe I don’t like being questioned,” Justin said.

“You do know you’re a suspect in her mother’s murder, don’t you?” Sadie asked.

Justin snorted. “Britt’s mother, Mayor Rumstocking, has been in here at least once a week this entire semester. Spring semester too for that matter, trying to get me to pass her daughter. I did not. So while she might have motive to murder me, that doesn’t give me a motive to murder her.”

“She wasn’t threatening your job?” She asked.

“What was she going to do, tell my Dean I refuse to pass her failing daughter?” he asked. “I have plenty of documentation, there’s no way the Dean was going to fire me over this.”