Weaving The Web: A Cold Hollow Mystery (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

Robert stared incredulously at the man. “How does it make me feel? Grateful. It’s all I’ve been working toward.”

“Does it frighten you? What if your business is a failure? How would it make you feel?”

“Disappointed, but I wouldn’t give up. I can always cook at home for my friends.”

“How many friends have you made since coming to town?”

“A few. I’ll make a lot more on the Fourth of July, but for now I’m happy with those I’ve made.”

“A few? How many, Robert?”

Robert flicked off on his fingers how many friends he had as he named them. “The mayor, the chief and his wife, the mayor’s fiance and son, and Carla Macy and her two girls, Becky and Sarah.”

“This is good, but do you think they’re your friends or just acquaintances?”

“Both. I don’t have any reason not to consider them friends.”

“Good. How about the former inmates you came here with?”

“I stay away from Warren; he’s just a little too strange for me. I’ve seen Sylvia around town. She smiles and waves each time she sees me, and I reciprocate.”

“Good. I see you have more female friends than male. I take it you’re handling your anger issues toward the fairer sex?”

“Yep. I cook and I no longer have a temper as I used to. We already know the reason for my anger issues toward females stems from my mother. I handled the issue with the psychiatrist at the rehab facility.”

“Yes, you did well there. Your reports are glowing. Do you still need to take sedatives?”

Robert shook his head. “No, and the only alcohol I drink is a glass of wine each night with my supper.” He went on to state there were other ways of coping with anger and frustration, and he knew it.

“I heard you did some renovations to your new home. Can you tell me why?”

“Sure. There was some damaged drywall in the basement. I replaced it and plan on finishing the basement to expand my living area. It’s a good-sized room. I also had the manager at the furniture store come by, pick out some new furniture for me, and give me some decorating ideas. In all honesty, the man who used to live there was a cretin who cared little about his home. I care a great deal about it.”

“Why?”

“It’s my place of peace. It’s my refuge. It’s loaded with wildlife and birds, and I love it there.”

“Would you mind if the chief went to your home with a few officers and inspected it?”

Robert frowned and hunched his shoulders. “If it’s protocol, then I have no problem with it. The chief has been there already and is always welcome. I don’t have a problem with it at all.”

“Robert. I have to say, you seem to be adjusting perfectly. I wish you luck in your new business, and I have no problem with giving the okay on your liquor license, provided it’s just beer and wine. The only hard liquor you will be allowed is what you use in the kitchen for cooking. I also want you to check in with the psychiatrist at the hospital every three months. She has a great record of accomplishment. She could help you in case you feel your anger issues returning. Will it be a problem?”

Robert shook his head, “Not in the least. I’ll make the appointment tomorrow. Thanks for the approval of the license. If you’re available tonight around six, stop by the back door of my new restaurant. The chief will let you in. I’ll give you a taste of what will be on my menu.”

The parole officer smiled. “I’ll be there.”

“Great!” Robert stood and shook the man’s hand before leaving the office. He entered Myrna’s office and gave her the thumbs-up sign and a wide smile. She took the liquor license, signed it, and slid it to the chief. He signed it and handed it over his shoulder to Robert. Robert snatched it up, poked the chief’s shoulder, and said, “Six o’clock sharp, Chief. Wait for the parole officer, he’s coming too.”

Myrna watched the chief rub his hands together and smack his lips. “Got it.”

Robert waved good-bye to them and left the office.

Just as Myrna was about to speak, little Liam came barreling in the room and ran to her with his arms up. She scooped him into her arms and kissed his entire face and neck until he giggled. When she pulled away, he asked with a bright smile on his face, “Did you need that more than your next breath?”

She smiled back. “I sure did. It’s always the best part of my day. How did you know I needed it?”

He leaned into her. “Grandma Dumont says I have great intimation.”

“Do you mean intuition?”

Liam nodded.

As Myrna’s gaze went to the chief, the smile slid from her face. Warren Measly was standing in the open doorway, watching the interaction with great interest while wearing a grin.

CHAPTER 12

Warren entered the office and smiled. He addressed Liam, who was curled up on Myrna’s lap. “There is nothing sweeter than a mother’s love, little Liam. You must treasure it always.”

Liam gazed up at Myrna with a crinkled face. He then turned back to Warren and said, “I know, Mister.”

The chief stood up, opened the door to the adjoining office for Warren, and said, “You don’t want to be late. Better get a move on.”

As Warren entered the office, he reflected upon his own mother. He would have given anything for her to react to his affections. However, she was a drunken lout who was more interested in where the next bottle of vodka was coming from. Any attempt at affection was dutifully thwarted. He took a seat and did not even realize the parole officer had been speaking to him.

“Warren?” The parole officer snapped his fingers in the air before Warren’s face.

Warren blinked and apologized while saying he was lost in concentration. The parole officer began the new list of questions and noticed Warren’s reactions were the polar opposite of Robert’s. When asked how many friends he had made, Warren had to think hard about it. He shrugged. “I have only made one true friend in this town.”

“What about your boss at the pharmacy? Don’t you consider him a friend?”

“He is an acquaintance and my employer. That is where it ends.”

“What is your friend’s name?”

He hesitated a moment and said, “Becky Macy.”

“How old is she?”

“She appears to be about eighteen.” He shifted his position to a more comfortable one.

“I hear you did some home renovations. Can you explain why?”

Warren could not understand this line of questioning. They were not the standardized questions to which he was accustomed. He swallowed and said, “I had to paint some of the walls in the interior of my home. I do not care for bland white walls.”

The parole officer watched Warren grip the arms of his chair. “What were the drywall and cinderblocks for?”

“I wanted a root cellar. I am expecting a large crop this summer and enjoy preserving. I needed a small room with shelves in a cool place. I sectioned off a part of my basement for it.”

“Are you happy with your new home?”

“Very.”

“How would you feel about letting the chief and a few of his men go to your home and inspect it?”

Warren’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair. “I have no problem with it. They can come whenever they please. Am I suspected of anything?”

The parole officer shook his head and continued questioning him. “I see you have taken a great many courses and hold multiple degrees. I want to know why the only course you never completed was cooking.”

“I didn’t like it. I mean, I enjoy cooking, but never planned on doing it for a living.”

“Are you sure? Robert Collins excelled in class. I know the two of you were in the same class. Did you fail out of the course because you knew Robert was a better chef?”

Warren’s cheeks flushed and his voice rose an octave. “I never failed anything in my life!”

“I am asking if you felt the competition was too great. Did you feel intimidated?”

“I was not comfortable in his presence.”

“Were you frightened of him?”

“No.”

The parole officer stared at Warren and said, “I want you to see the psychiatrist at the hospital every month. Would it be an issue for you?”

“Why? Why would you send me there? I am just as qualified and intelligent.”

“Warren. Answer the question.”

Warren’s lips tightened and he spoke out of the side of his mouth. “I’ll go.”

When the meeting was over, Warren stood up, left the office, and walked straight through Myrna’s office without looking back. He could not believe after all these years the questions had been changed. He was certain they would probably do this routinely now.

***

Myrna had brought Liam back down to Mrs. Dumont’s day care until she was done for the day with her other duties. He eagerly joined in a game underway on the rug as Myrna returned to her office upstairs. When she entered, the chief and the parole officer were sitting across from her desk.

She sat behind the desk and looked at the chief. “I want to know how he knew my son’s name. Liam never met him.” She raised her arm and slammed her open hand atop her desk.

He noticed she had scooped up and crumbled a piece of paper and was now twisting and turning it within her grasp. Her knuckles were blanching. He asked, “Did Tom ever take him to the pharmacy with him or speak of him at the pharmacy?”

She cringed, but responded in a taut voice, “I’ll ask Tom tonight, but I don’t like it, Chief. I don’t like it one bit. You know what happens when I don’t
like
something, don’t you?” Her eyes took on a crazed look.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hold on, missy. I’ll check into it. Liam is safe. Hell, it would take a herd of marauders to get Liam out of Mrs. Dumont’s grasp for a millisecond. She does not trust anyone.”

He watched Myrna relax back in her chair and her eyes shift to the parole officer. The chief turned his gaze away as well. The man cleared his throat and began, “Robert Collins is adjusting so well I can hardly believe it. He was not startled in the least by any of the questions and agreed to have his home inspected any time you want.”

He held two files and lifted Warren’s. “This guy worries me. He did not like the change in questions at all. He hesitated about the home inspection, and his grip on the arms of his chair was white knuckled. He didn’t enjoy this session at all, nor did he sail through it by any means. He didn’t want to see the hospital psychiatrist because he feels superior to her. I think this man feels superior to just about everyone, but he is socially inept. He is a loner. He’s only made one friend in the past months. He considers all others acquaintances. Let me put it this way. ‘He is a quiet man who keeps to himself, but he is never too busy to stop and say hello.’ Does it ring a bell, Chief?”

The chief’s eyebrows rose, and he bolted upright. “I’m going to his house right now with another officer.” He did an about-face and left the office.

A shiver ran up and down Myrna’s spine as she sat there, hoping and praying the chief found something at Warren’s home.

After the parole officer returned to his office and closed the adjoining door, she called the bakery to check in on Sarah and Donnie, and to make sure things were running smoothly, only to find out they’d had a booming day and broken the shop’s record for sales. The tip jar was overflowing, and Myrna was happy something was finally going right. She sat back and deliberated about making Donnie the shop manager and Sarah an official assistant baker. She felt bad she didn’t have a title for Daryl, but he was content. She pondered whether to give him the title ‘The Count of Cleanliness.’ She chuckled to herself; the boy was a fastidious cleaner and kept the back room, restroom, and storeroom spotless. She also ruminated about giving each of them a little raise in pay. She trusted them and never had to worry about her business when she was across the street at the town hall. She wanted them to feel appreciated.

She jumped in her chair when the police radio went off. She clicked on it and asked, “Find anything?”

“Not a goddamn thing. This guy is a neat freak! The little bastard is so obsessed, all of his canned goods in the cupboards are all in alphabetical freaking order!”

“What about the basement?”

“Checked. He built a small room with shelves for preserves and potatoes and onions. We are back to square one.”

“Are you checking Robert’s place again?”

“Yes, but I know we won’t find anything.”

“Check Warren’s barn and its loft before leaving.”

“On my way now.”

Myrna put the radio down and slammed back in her chair.

She yanked out the folder for the Fourth of July and picked up the phone to order the fireworks, book the band, and the small carnival. She then called the fire department to make sure they would be there with their truck and to monitor the fireworks display. After a few more calls, she packed up and left her office to pick up Liam and go to the bakery to prep for the following morning.

***

Warren Measly returned home after work to see the police cruisers pulling out of his driveway. He’d had such a wretched day his only concern was getting home to see his dog and water his garden. It wasn’t only because he had done miserably at his parole meeting. There was also an incident where Carla Macy had stormed into the pharmacy in the afternoon. She had questioned his friendship with her daughter in front of his boss. He was mortified, had begun stammering, and became uncomfortable. However, he avowed he reassured her appropriately they were simply friends and he had no underhanded motives in mind, but her actions were unfounded and she had embarrassed him publicly. The humiliation was difficult to bear and entirely unnecessary.

He slipped in the back door of his home to a warm welcome from Hercules. He smiled as he rubbed the dog down and let his worries slip away. After a twenty-minute walk around town with his dog, he returned home and let Hercules loose in the backyard as he watered his vegetable garden. The sun was shining bright and as he watered, he noticed an intricate spider web in one of his shrubs. He approached it and smiled. It was the web of the hackled orb weaver—the most efficient spider he had ever had the pleasure of researching. How did Warren know this? He knew they were indigenous to the area and besides, Warren was knowledgable in the area. He went to his house to retrieve his camera and began taking pictures of the shiny, wet web and the spider. He would blow one of the pictures up to hang in his office. This one was too fine a specimen to be ignored.

***

Myrna, Tom, and Liam sat cuddling on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and soft drinks as they watched
The Frighteners
. It was a horror movie, because Liam had aptly informed them the summer was meant for watching scary movies. As Myrna watched it, she noticed a great deal of comedy in it and began giggling. When one ghost popped up from a graveyard dressed in fatigues, fully armed, and shouting, they all pointed and yelled, “The chief is in another movie!” The three of them belly-laughed until they could hardly breathe. The resemblance in looks and attitude was uncanny. She wondered if the chief had ever watched any of those films with the actor in it.

Later into the evening, as she sipped her Sleepytime tea, Myrna asked Tom if he’d ever introduced Liam to Warren Measly. Tom assured her he hadn’t, but it didn’t mean someone else in town hadn’t told him Liam’s name. He wondered if perhaps Becky or Sarah Macy had.