Death among the Roses: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 1) (10 page)

“You didn’t know all this stuff already?”

Josh scowled. "Mom never talked much about herself, and she never referred to Cloverton.”

“My Dad went to school with your mom and Violet. He’d like you to come to dinner. He’s willing to share his stories about the sisters.”

“Really?”

“Indeed.”

“I’d like that very much.”

"And after you finished up at the high school?" I prompted.

"I went to the library. Prowled through the local history section. Learned Mom's family arrived here early and stayed late. Nothing earth shattering but it was all interesting to a son who knows almost nothing of his mom’s background. Then, after lunch, I drove out to Cloverton Lake. It's pretty out there."

“Yes, it is. But it’s not just the lake. The whole of Cloverton is pretty to me.”

“You’re right. Maybe that’s why this town seems such an odd setting for a murder.”

I appreciated the compliment on our little village. “I keep wondering who the murderer is, and I’m also half afraid of finding out. Ginger accused me of wanting the killer to be an outsider. Someone I don’t know.”

“I could understand that.”

I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to find Alan Larkin approaching our table. I swallowed back a groan. How like him to interrupt us, I thought. He noticed that I’d spotted him and offered me one of his wry grins.

"Hi there,” he said, when he reached our table. “What are you two up to?" He put down his tray and extended a hand toward Josh. “Alan Larkin,” he said, “and you are?”

“Josh Devon.”

“Mind if I join you?”

I was just about to offer up a negative reply when Larkin cut me off with a smile. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to include me.” He seated himself between us.

Beneath the table, my foot slammed the floor

"From a distance," Larkin continued, "you two looked lost in deep conversation. What kind of plots have you been hatching?” He picked up a fry and popped it into his mouth.

"Ah…” I offered up and then stopped. Somehow I was reluctant to fill him in on what Josh and I were doing here.

But Josh smiled at Larkin over his coffee. "We’ve been speculating about who killed Gary Pepper.”

Larkin nodded. “There’s probably plenty of people doing that tonight. Newspaper story just coming out today and all. By the way, that was some piece your daddy put together.”

“Thank you,” I said, resisting the urge to snarl.

Larkin shot me a meaningful glance. "And speculating on murders is fine as long as that’s all it is
—
speculation.”

I shifted in my seat and told myself Larkin couldn’t possibly know about my activities with Ginger. No way.

"Murder investigations are best left to the professionals," he said, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

My stomach banged into my toes.

"Ah, Alan is a deputy sheriff," I explained for Josh’s benefit.

"A deputy sheriff who is someday planning to run for sheriff," Larkin added as he offered up a decidedly political-looking smile.

My jaw dropped. This was the first I'd heard this idea mentioned. Heaven knew he’d never get my vote. If Larkin won election as sheriff, I’d lose my favorite snitch.

"So what do you do?" Larkin asked Josh.

“I’m an accountant with a manufacturing firm.”

“But you live up around Chicago?”

“That’s correct.”

Larkin took a big bite of his hamburger. He chewed, swallowed, and grinned.

I shook my head and wished someone would save me from this male, chest banging stuff. Apes and their mating calls had never much impressed me. Then I reminded myself that if Larkin wanted to bang his chest over someone, the lady was very unlikely to be me.

B
y the time Gary’s funeral was held news on the murder investigation had ground to an irritating halt. Dad moaned nonstop over the lack of fresh information coming out of Gossford’s office but he made do with what little there was as best he could.

Meanwhile, Ginger and I were having as little luck as Gossford at finding new avenues to pursue. The waitress from Gary’s bachelor party was still nowhere to be found. Our calls to her went unanswered. Friends and family denied having seen her. On another front,  Ginger and I had both tried our hands at using GPS to track her cell phone but had come up empty-handed. We figured whoever had grabbed the phone had destroyed it after placing the call that lured Gary to his death. In short, we had no idea what to tackle next in our effort to track the killer.

And now the funeral had come and gone and his mourners had gathered at the Pepper home after the service. I stood before the coffee maker in the dining room. The place was packed. Nearly all of Cloverton had turned out along with his college friends to mourn their loss. Sipping coffee, I  studied their faces. Most were familiar to me although there were also some I’d not seen before.

It was one of the latter that now walked up beside me. “It’s good to see you again,” the man said, offering me a hand.

I studied the incredibly handsome face gazing at me. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?” He work a dark, well-tailored suit with the perfectly matched tie. Dark hair, pale skin, electric-blue eyes, and a sturdy chin. None of his features looked familiar to me.

“I’m Don Treadway,” he said with a comfortable smile. His hand closed around mine. His flesh was warm, his grip firm.

Since starting to work news, I like to think I’ve cultivated an excellent poker face. Not showing my surprise or anger come in handy when dealing with sensitive sources. But this time, I was pretty sure my shock was on open display for all to see. I wondered where this man’s acne, inch-thick glasses, and pocket protector had gone?

“It was kind of you to come,” I managed to get out.

“I couldn’t let Cordelia down. Or Gary’s folks either. I told you I’d be here.

His concern for Gary’s parents didn’t fool me. This man was here to see Cordelia.

“So, what have you been up to since high school?” I asked.

“I’ve graduated from a few schools here and there. MIT, Berkeley, University of Chicago, all in my march to chalk up post-graduate degrees.”

His listing of universities read like the Who’s Who of the academic world. Of course, I wasn’t surprised. He’d said he was employed at one of the most a prestigious physics labs in the nation. “I’d ask you what you’re working on now,” I offered, “but I’m sure it’s so involved that I wouldn’t understand a word of your explanation..”

“No offense meant, but that probably is true.” He smoothed his perfect tie.

Ugh
.

Still, I had to give him points for effort. I couldn’t imagine the will power it must have taken to transform himself from our high school disaster of a Donny to this suave, impressive man.

Then again, maybe his ego would be his final undoing. The only thing I felt certain of was that Donny would make a run at my dear, dear friend. Then, I wondered why I found that thought depressing?

“We’ll be seeing more of you, I assume?” I asked.

“It’s highly likely,” he said.

I watched him drift away and point himself at a another person from our high school class.

“Who is that?” Ginger asked, her gaze glued on Treadway’s departing back.

I filled her in.

“You’re lying,” she protested.

“Nope. Not a bit.”

“Geesh. I never knew anyone could clean up that well. Where’s he living now?”

I explained his academic and employment history and provided her with his current address.

Ginger’s eyes grew even larger. “It was nice of him to come to the funeral, then. Were he and Gary tight in high school?”

“No, I’m pretty sure they weren’t. Don’t you remember Donny’s huge and never-ending crush on Cordelia?”

“Wowzie. Cordelia should take a gander at him now.”

“I think that’s the point of his being here – to give Cordelia a chance to feast her eyes on him.”

“You’re kidding me. After all these years?”

“He’s apparently unmarried.”

“How do you know that?”

“I asked him.”

“Yikes.”

Josh joined us, his large brown eyes taking all of Ginger in with one quick glance.

“Hello, there,” she said..

Josh grinned and nodded at her. “It’s a decent turn out. Don’t you think?”

“Of course it would be” I said. “Gary was widely respected here.”

Ginger sighed. “I only wish they’d find his killer. I can’t shake the feeling I’m still a suspect.”

“How’d that come out with Gossford over your missing cell phone?” Josh asked.

“Not word one, is how. I never dreamed he could be so tight lipped.” Ginger set her plate down on the table and reached for a coffee cup to fill.

“He hasn’t charged you,” I reassured her. “That has to count for something.”

Ginger huffed. “Doesn’t mean much, if you ask me. I feel as though I could jump out of my skin any minute now.”

“It will come out all right,” Josh said. “Besides, the suspense has to end before too long. It’s a small town. How many suspects can there be?”

“One too many if you ask me,” Ginger offered with a worried smile. “And worse yet, everybody knows he pulled me in for questioning. I bet I’m the subject of half of the conversations going on here today.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I responded.

“You’re only saying that to cheer me up. But thanks anyway.” Ginger’s eye apparently caught sight of Stepich on the far side of the room. “Later,” she said, scurrying off in his direction.

“Did you see that large spray of flowers at the funeral?” Gary asked. “The one off to the left of the casket.”

“How could I miss it. It put most of ours to shame.” I grabbed a pepper slice and proceeded to nibble on it.

“It came from Bella and her son.”

I blinked. “You checked the name on the card?”

“I had to know.”

“That is odd, isn’t it?” I went for a slice of carrot this time. “I never knew Gary was  tight with either Bella or Jimmy.”

“I’d say they must have thought highly of him.”

“Apparently.”

“Maybe it was all your father’s stories. He’s done an awfully good job of chronicling Gary’s life. I never met him, yet though your father’s articles I feel I know him rather well. I get the feeling the whole community lost someone special with Gary’s death.”

“Thank you. Again.”

Josh glanced about the room. “Is he here?”

“Yes. He’s in standing in the corner talking to Mrs. Pepper now.”

“The distinguished looking gentleman?”

“That’s him. And thanks for the compliment, but he’d appreciate your observation about his writing best. Dad’s not the least bit concerned with his looks.”

“Has he ever said anything more about inviting me over for dinner?”

“Not recently. I tell you what. Let’s go over and talk to him now.”

I grabbed Josh’s arm and pulled him off in my father’s direction.

So that’s how, later that night, Dad and Josh and I sat down in our dining room to generous portions of beef Wellington. My father made the pastry for the dish in advance, wrapped it around the beef, and then froze the whole, enabling him to produce the impressive dish for our dining pleasure even in the middle of the week. That’s how good a chef my dad was.

Josh shot an appreciative glance my way. “Thank you, that was delicious,” he said, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin.

We were seated in the dining room. Silver glistened. Linens were white and crisp.

I laughed. “I’m not responsible for this incredible meal. Dad’s the cook in this house.”

“Really,” Josh’s head swung toward Father. “Everything was delicious, sir.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Beaming, Dad sat back mother in his chair. “And for dessert, would you care to hear stories about your?

“I’d be absolutely delighted to, thank you.”

Father looked so pleased. He absolutely adored telling stories. He’d be going on about this meal for weeks to come.

“Your mom was the prettier and younger of the two sisters,” he told Josh. “But it was your Aunt Violet that won the heart of the man who had come between them.”

“Uncle Vince?” Josh asked.

“One and the same. So that’s how Gary’s mom stayed in Cloverton and married Vince, while your mom, Rose, went on to college and eventually married your dad.”

“Are you telling me this family feud was over a high school crush?”

“Well, not exactly a crush, perhaps. Remember, your aunt went on to marry the man. And one should never discount the power of first love. Not of your aunt’s nor of your mother’s.”

“Maybe we’re talking about different generations here,” Josh replied, crumpling his napkin into a ball.

“Perhaps, but then how do you explain the allure of Romeo and Juliet to me?”

“I’m an accountant. I’ve never read that play.”

Dad smiled. “I think you’d like it. I doubt your heart is as immune to young love as you are projecting it to be.”

A flush crept up Josh’s neck.

“So who’s up for some real desert?” I received an enthusiastic response all round. “Good. I’ve heard there’s a blueberry pie waiting for us in the kitchen. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch it in.”

***

That night, up in my room, my mind kept returning to Treadway. He’d come down for the funeral, as promised. And as I’d suspected he would, he’d chased Cordelia about the dining room. He was a young, accomplished adult still chasing his adolescent fantasy.

It seemed to me that his obsession provided him with an excellent motive to have murdered Gary. In fact, the longer I thought about the man, the better I liked him for the killer.

I rolled over in bed and grabbed my cell phone.

“Ginger,” I said, when she answered on the second ring.

Her voice was groggy. “Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Melanie. Have I woken you?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “Ooops. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Ginger sighed. “So what do you want.”

“I should let you go back to sleep.”

“No, now that I’m up, spit out whatever it is that has you so riled up, please.”

“I’ve been thinking about Treadway.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“No, I don’t mean like that. Even you must have noticed that he has eyes only for Cordelia.”

“So?”

I elected to give up on pointing out the obvious to Ginger. “So… what do you think of him as Gary’s killer?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because Cordelia has become 
—
or maybe always was
—
an obsession with him. Think of how much he’s changed. What if he’s only undergone such pains in hopes of winning over Cordelia? She may have rejected him in high school, but Treadway isn’t the same man today.”

“So he believes all he needs to do is show himself to Cordelia, and she’ll swoon all over him?”

“You saw him at Gary’s funeral today. He did his very best to place himself before her.”

“He’s supposed to be a bright man, isn’t he? To risk his career, everything he’s gained by killing a man is way beyond stupid.”

“As well as brilliant, I suspect Treadway’s also vain.”

“That could work, I suppose. He might think knocking Gary off would clear his path to the woman of his dreams, I guess. But that’s sick thinking. So how do we check this latest theory of yours?”

“I’m not sure how yet, but we need to start by figuring out whether Treadway was in town on the day Gary died.”

“No problem.”

“What do you mean?”

She yawned. “Leave it to me. I’ll ask around. Goodnight.”

After she’d disconnected, I hung up, pounded my pillow, and endured another long, sleepless night.