Fudge Brownies & Murder (16 page)

"She's his moneygrubbing niece, or I guess niece-in-law. It sounds like Esther Mae had some pretty unsavory relatives. Now that she's dead, they're coming out of the woodwork looking for money from her estate." She turned onto the road, the same direction Shantelle and her boyfriend had gone. "This niece and her boyfriend, who was driving the truck, both have criminal records."

"I'm up for following them if you and your little car can do it." Geri patted the dash. "To see what they may be up to after checking to make sure the uncle is occupied at the market."

"You'd be surprised at what Mimi and I are capable of."

The cab of the truck was visible above the lineup of nondescript sedans on the road between them. A traffic light turned yellow as the rusty vehicle lumbered through an intersection. "Damn it," Amy said as she stomped on the brake pedal. The lightweight car skidded to a stop, leaving a few inches between the Mini and the car that had obediently stopped in front of them. "They could be heading out of town, maybe toward Esther Mae and Buck's house, but we'll never know if I lose them."

Geri leaned her head against the passenger door's window. "They just turned right on a street two blocks ahead."

"Thanks." She slowly accelerated through the icy intersection, looking both ways for out of control vehicles that could end their spying mission in a hurry. "That's a residential neighborhood. Buck's house is way out in the country on a dirt road, so I'm not sure where they might be going."

Amy flicked on the blinker and turned onto the street Geri pointed at. The rear end of the Mini tried to keep going in the curved trajectory, but Amy let off the gas and straightened out of the almost spin.

"Isn't that the truck backing out of the driveway up there?" Geri asked as she pointed to the end of the block-long street.

Sure enough, the truck was backing out of a driveway. It turned in the street until its headlights were pointing at the Mini. The sleet was still falling, making everything look muted and fuzzy. But there was no mistaking the rooster tails of icy slush shooting up from behind the truck as it sped right toward them.

Geri squealed as Amy hit the gas to get the car out of the center of the roadway so they weren't a giant bull's-eye in the middle of the truck's demonic path. She turned the steering wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes. It was Amy's turn to squeal as her precious vehicle skidded diagonally. The tires thumped against the curb, and the car bounced back toward the center of the street in a game of vehicular pinball. Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden deceleration. A bang over her head released the breath in an all-out scream as the truck passed by, inches away from her door.

"What the hell?" Geri swiveled in her seat to watch the truck.

Amy's hands were welded to the steering wheel as brown liquid trickled down the windshield. A large foam to-go cup rode the waterfall down to the hood. Rectangular ice cubes slowly slid down the glass behind the dark cascade.

"They're gone," Geri said as her hand clasped over Amy's. "I think we need to get back to Carla's house and let Bruce know what happened. I doubt he'll be happy that we followed these people, but their reaction has g-u-i-l-t-y written all over it."

The recipe pages fluttered, trying to break free from the rocks that were preventing them from taking flight. While the wind might spell freedom for the papers, it meant frozen body parts for Amy and the small army of volunteers handing out food. A line of cars snaked through the streets of the neighborhood around the Kellerton Library long before the food pantry had all of the distribution stations set up along the sidewalk in front of the building.

Five cars at a time were allowed to pull into the distribution area. The occupants got out and worked their way down the sidewalk lined with food stations to pick out foods like frozen turkeys, canned green beans, and cake mixes. There was no need to bring in a refrigerated truck since the temperature was several degrees below freezing. A volunteer ushered each person or family through the lineup, starting with the table manned by Amy and Sophie, the recipe and food preparation consultants, to see if there were any questions about what to choose or how to prepare the foods. They chatted with harried moms who worried about getting their children to eat vegetables and twentysomethings who didn't know how to cook but couldn't afford to buy fast food for every meal.

Two hours whirled by before Amy had a chance to stop talking for a moment and look around. Sophie was at the other end of the line of stations, chatting with a few of the other volunteers. Most of the pallets and bins that had been stacked full of boxed food and frozen poultry were almost empty. Even the cases of seitan, tofu, and vegan cheese that Rori was offering at her vegetarian station were mostly gone. Amy was a bit surprised that the meat-free meal offerings had been so popular in the middle of a holiday season that most people associated with crown rib roasts, glazed hams, or turkey.

Rori pulled her dark purple crocheted ski hat farther down to cover her ears. "I've been so busy I didn't realize how cold I am."

"I know," Amy said as she rubbed her hands together. She had worn black leather gloves to have the dexterity to pick up recipe sheets, but their insulating properties were far less than the faux-fur-lined mittens she loved to wear in cold weather. "There isn't much food left, and the line of cars has made it through. There's just a trickle of vehicles driving in now. I think we'll wrap this up soon before we all end up sick for the holiday from getting so cold."

"Take some echinacea when you get home. Maybe wash it down with some licorice tea," Rori suggested.

Amy actually had both of those things on hand. She had recently picked up a natural medicine handout at Yoga For You then visited the health food store to stock up the homeopathic remedies on her way home from the studio. Being sick made miserable winters so much more unbearable. Vitamin C tablets, elderberry extract, and slippery elm lozenges were also hanging out in her medicine cabinet, ready to be employed at the first sign of illness.

"I'll do that. Hot tea sounds lovely right now." She tapped her nose. "My nose is so cold it's numb. A little bit of steam would help thaw it out."

Rori smiled briefly, but the expression soured as she looked down the line of stations. "Your body needs quality fuel to fight off illnesses. It is so frustrating to see food pantries handing out items that are full of white flour, sugar, and preservatives. I realize they can only give out what has been donated to them, but it's so distressing that people with low incomes have to eat so unhealthily. I bet many of them would get back on their feet quicker if they had access to more nutritious meals. Brains and bodies function better with real food for fuel."

"I've used my fair share of white flour and sugar over the years." Amy held her hands up in the surrender position. "Please don't hold it against me."

"It's okay. I won't hold you down and force you to eat raw kale." Rori kicked a stone with her boot. The rock skittered across the frozen pavement. "I realize eating virtuously all the time is hard. I have nothing against treats now and then. I just want to let people know how to eat better and give them the resources to do so, no matter how much money they have."

Amy had worked with the food pantry for several years, but she had never put much thought into what foods were being handed out. "Maybe you can help change that at this pantry. I would be willing to help. It may take some creative brainstorming, but I'm up for the challenge if you are."

Rori clapped her mittens together. "Thank you for offering to help. I've been trying to figure out what to do over the last week. With two of us, I think we could make some changes for the better." She leaned sideways to look around Amy. "Can I help you? I have quite a few vegetables along with some seitan and TVP left if you would like to make a vegetarian or vegan meal."

"Anything would be good."

Amy shuffled to the right to get out of the middle of the conversation. She glanced over her shoulder. Her muscles instinctively tensed. Shantelle flicked a hostile look at Amy then continued her conversation with Rori. "My boyfriend eats at Taco Hut every day, so I don't need much for meals for myself."

"Don't you ever have dinner with Rayshelle?" She couldn't help but ask. While Amy was an only child, she knew many people who regularly shared meals with their siblings.

The eyeball tattoo rippled and distorted as Shantelle frowned. "We hate each other. Always have. A happy, little family get-together isn't possible." She snatched a package of marinated tofu out of Rori's hand and dropped it into the dirty pink backpack she was carrying. "By the way, sorry about Harlan running you off the road. He thought you were a cop. He doesn't like cops."

Did any criminals like police officers, especially ex-convicts? "He thinks cops drive Mini Coopers?"

"He doesn't talk much."

Was that supposed to be an explanation? More like an odd excuse for bad behavior. He couldn't possibly believe she was really a police officer, could he? Then again, maybe he'd had the brain tattooed on his skull in a comic book-style attempt to increase his mental prowess. Amy just looked at Shantelle. What was she supposed to say?

Shantelle continued stuffing food offered by Rori into the backpack. Without being prompted she continued the rambling, mostly one-sided conversation. "I told him you were the woman from that fancy, expensive brownie place, but he didn't believe me. I'm pissed that he threw my Coke at you. I'd barely had two drinks of it. I bet you were behind us because you live in one of the houses in that classy neighborhood, right?"

Did living five miles away from the area where she had engaged in the terrifying game of vehicular chicken count as the same neighborhood? Was Shantelle trying to rationalize to herself why Amy was following her and her boyfriend? She opened her mouth to answer, but Shantelle beat her to the verbal punch by saying, "That's it. You look like the kind of person that would live in one of those fancy houses."

After loading up on enough food to make many vegetarian meals for one, Shantelle left, struggling with the heavy backpack and shopping bags as she scuttled over the uneven sidewalk. Was Harlan parked out of sight or had she walked to the giveaway location? The faded, baggy sweater she was wearing wasn't heavy enough to serve as a winter coat and protect her against the fiercely frigid wind.

Amy sprinted into a nearby cube van that had helped transport the food from the pantry's warehouse to the library. There was a rack of coats inside that volunteers could give to anybody who they thought needed one. She pawed through the lineup until she found a women's size small. Amy ran out of the van. Shantelle was a block away.

"Wait, Shantelle, I have something for you!" she called as she broke into a jog.

Shantelle spun around then took a few steps backward as she raised the shopping bags up, as though they were shields. Her real eyes got big as Amy held up the black quilted coat and said, "I brought this for you. I thought maybe you could use it."

She dropped her arms. "I don't understand. I thought this was just a food giveaway."

"We have a few other things, if people need them." Amy offered the coat again. "Would you like a coat? It's been getting colder every day lately."

Shantelle set the bags at her feet. She took the coat and shrugged it on while glaring at Amy. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

She shrugged. "Because I thought you might need some help."

Her angry gaze stayed locked on Amy as she squatted down to pick up the grocery bags. When she gathered them all in her grasp again, she stood. "Thank you."

*   *   *

Amy rubbed her hands together. Even after two extra-hot pumpkin pie lattes she hadn't warmed up from spending the morning outside at the food pantry giveaway. Now she was walking through the equivalent of the North Pole of Clement Street Market—the loading dock. She hadn't been scheduled to work, but JoJo called to ask if Amy could fill in for a few hours while she ran home to meet a furnace repair person. There was no way Amy wouldn't help out so that very important errand could be accomplished. JoJo was not an abominable snowwoman who would find it enjoyable to live in a two-bedroom bungalow refrigerator.

The most important thing that needed to be done while the booth's manager tackled her malfunctioning furnace was taking care of a delivery. The frigid weather had increased the demand for coffee, which then depleted the booth's supplies. Sophie was scheduled to stop by with more milk, both dairy and nondairy, along with cases of to-go coffee cups. Making the delivery at the market's loading dock was the simplest way to get the supplies into the market.

While the sales area inside the former warehouse was bright and cheerful, the back room was dark and dingy, a reminder of the original purpose of the expansive building. The area was also teeth-chattering cold thanks to the bank of metal garage doors that led to the loading dock ramps. It was not an area she wanted to hang out in for long.

Amy pulled the smaller entrance door leading from the main market shut behind her. She stood for a moment, blinking, to let her eyes adjust to the dimness. There were toe-crushing carts and crates scattered all over the space. The murmur of a conversation blended with the creaking of the cargo doors that were being buffeted by the wind.

A woman said, "I can't believe it's turning out like this. I never expected this to happen."

"You just never know what life will bring," was a man's response. "Enjoy it while you can. I'm here if you need me…any time, day or night."

She should make her presence known, but Amy was cemented in place. The voices sounded very familiar, but the conversation was out of character if she was right about whom the couple was. A rhythmic electronic beep echoed through the room. The signal that a delivery vehicle was backing up to the loading dock. Since only she and the secretive couple, who were apparently hiding in a dark corner behind a wall of milk crates, were in the loading area, most likely the vehicle outside was the Riverbend Café catering van.