Murder at the Tremont House (A Blue Plate Cafe Mystery) (8 page)

“
That wasn’t what I was thinking then,” she said simply. “I have to do my homework. I left my backpack in the living room.” She rose to get it, but I put out a hand.

“
You get a pass on homework tonight. But your mom and dad will be here any minute, and we’ll all have to talk. And tomorrow I think you owe Chief Samuels an apology for causing him so much trouble.”

“
How did I cause him trouble?”

“
Ava, he alerted police all over the state to look for you.”

“
Really?” Her eyes were wide. “Gosh, I didn’t know.”

To me, still wearing her jeans and long-sleeved
T-shirt, she looked small and pitiful, as though she felt she was one child against the world. I got up and hugged her, and she returned the hug fiercely.

When Tom and Donna arrived, they wrapped her in their arms and told her over and over how relieved they were that she was home. Ava began to squirm just a bit, and Donna
’s mood suddenly changed.

“
Now, young lady, explain yourself.”

She sat back down at the table, and while I poured coffee, she said simply,
“I just didn’t want to go home.”

“
How could you not want to go home?” her mother demanded.

“
Mom, you were honking to get my attention. That’s rude. None of the other mothers do that…I mean, Mom, I’m in high school now. You can’t treat me like a baby. I was embarrassed, so I ran.”

The gentle bear in Tom was back.
“Why did you come here?”

“
Because I always felt safe at Gram’s…and loved. And Aunt Kate makes me feel the same way.”

“
You don’t feel safe at home?” Donna demanded.

“
I don’t always feel loved. You’re so busy with the B&B and talking to Sara Jo, and Dad’s not home much. I know, Dad, you have a store to run and the town besides, but somehow….” She flung her hands out to either side of her. “Somehow, I just feel lost.”

Donna began,
“Well, young lady, there will be consequences to your actions.”

But with a gentle hand on his wife
’s arm, Tom stopped her. “I think it will take a lot of talking to get to the bottom of this. But it’s late now, and we’re all worn out with worry. We’ll work it out tomorrow. Ava, do you want to go home or do you want to stay here?”

“
Stay here.” She seemed to shrink as she said it in the softest voice possible.

Donna opened her mouth, but again Tom stopped her.
” “That’s fine. Kate, I’ll come by in the morning and get them. You go on to the café. Just lock the door. I have a key, and I’ll come early enough to bring them for buns before school.”

I nodded, while Donna cast an angry look at him, but Tom was unflustered.
“Come on, Donna. We’re going home. You and I have to talk.”

I expected protests, but she followed him quietly. I wouldn
’t have wanted to be in Donna’s shoes right then.

Chapt
er Seven

Ava sat at the kitchen table, looking utterly miserable.
“I guess I’m just an awful person for causing so much trouble,” she said softly.

“
Ava, you’re not an awful person. You’re young, and maybe confused, and a bit lonely. But you have so much ahead of you, so much to give. And you are so loved by so many people.”

She looked down at the hands clasped in her lap.
“Mom doesn’t love me. She thinks I’m a bother. I liked it better before Irv got murdered. I know Mom shouldn’t have spent so much time with him, but he paid attention to me and bought me things and acted like I was a real person. So did Mom when he was around.”

Children know so much more about
adults’ lives than we suspect.
I was momentarily stunned into silence, but I finally collected my thoughts. “You know, you’re right about Irv in a lot of ways. But your dad loves you a lot. He was frantic tonight, and now he’s angry.”

“
At me,” she said. “I suppose he’ll ground me for weeks. I don’t care. I don’t get to go anywhere or do anything anyway.”

Slow down, Kate. She
’s a freshman in high school, a time when lots of girls feel lost and lonely. She’s just got a double burden.
“No, I don’t think he’s angry at you. He’s angry at the whole situation that made you so unhappy that you felt you had to disappear.” I walked over and put an arm around her. “I’m so glad you
disappeared
to my house and didn’t go someplace scary.”

“
Like Canton? Or even Dallas?”

“
Yes, like that. You’re safe here, and you’re not always safe other places. Never forget that.”

We sat and talked, and I gradually eased some information out of her. Her mom
’s friendship with Sara Jo bothered her. Sara Jo had been spending a lot of time at the high school, and, yes, she’d interviewed Ava.

“
She wanted to know about Mom and Irv. I didn’t tell her much. I don’t figure it’s any of her business. You know what?” She looked at me as though changing the subject would make it all okay. “I think that Sara Jo person has a crush on one of the athletes at school.”

Wow! I don
’t want to go there.
“Surely not,” I said. “She’s old enough to be his mother.”

She giggled.
“I know. That’s what we all think is so funny about it!”

“
Who is we all?” Here was the kind of lead I wanted. Did Ava have girlfriends?

“
Oh, some of the girls I pal around with. Francie is my BFF….” She looked at me. “Do you know what that means?”

“
I’m not that old, Ava. Of course I know. She’s your best friend forever.” I didn’t say that would change six times before she got out of high school. If Ava was one of the lucky ones, it wouldn’t, and she’d have a lifetime friendship. “Who else?”

“
Rachel and Deb and a few others. We talk about Sara Jo—she told us to call her that and not Ms. Cavanaugh—a lot. I think she’s trying to be our buddy, like she’s one of us. But she’s not.”

There it was again. Sara Jo
’s presence in my town, like a vulture circling around the carcass. It made me shiver a bit.

“
But she’s your mom’s buddy.”

“
Yeah. Mom thinks her life is sophisticated, just like she thought Irv’s was. I wish Mom would just settle for being a mom. We don’t need the B&B. Dad makes enough money for us, if Mom would just stay at home, cook and clean and take us places like most moms do. Do you know, Aunt Kate, how awful it is to be always asking for a ride to basketball practice because my mom is busy?”

“
Basketball practice? I didn’t even know you played until your mom mentioned it today.”

She got up and rinsed her cup at the sink, shoulders drooping in dejection again.
“See? No one pays attention to me.”

She turned to go to bed, but I stopped her and wrapped my arms around her.
“Ava, I will always pay attention to you. For starters, would you like to invite Francie and Rachel and Deb for a girls’ evening here? I’ll make homemade pizza, and we can do hair and nails and stuff like that.”

“
Jess too?” Her question had a tentative quality to it.

“
Nope. I’ll tell your dad to rent a movie for Jess and Henry. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a school day, and you have to be up early. The others are in Gram’s bed, so why don’t you sleep in your mom’s old room?”

For the first time that evening, she hugged me.
“Thanks, Aunt Kate. I love you. And I always feel safe at your house.”

“
Good. Always come here if you have a problem. Promise?”

Ava looked at me a long time and then said slowly,
“I will. I can’t go to Mom, and I don’t want to add to Dad’s troubles. You’re the best, Aunt Kate.”

Her words made my heart both break and sing. I was so grateful she trusted me, but I was sad about her home situation. I hugged her fiercely, and she returned the hug. Then with a quick smile and
“Sweet dreams,” she headed back to Donna’s old bedroom.

Morning would come too early.

Next morning, Ava was back to herself—sort of a balky teenager. I had left them for Tom to wake up and get ready. He brought them to the café and Ava had her usual disinterested expression. Except she poked her head into the kitchen before they left to say, “Thanks, Aunt Kate. I love you.”

I had to use a floured hand to wipe away a tear.
“I love you too,” I said softly. That child would be all right.

“
You did the right thing, Kate,” Gram said. “You’re going to have to help those children, until Donna straightens out her thinking…if she ever does.”

Thanks, Gram, for starting my day off on suc
h an optimistic note.

****

Our first cooking lesson was nearly a disaster. I shouldn’t have left the planning to Donna. She didn’t leave enough time for the ladies to watch me cook the meal—they would take turns helping, since there wasn’t room for all of them to work at once—and get their children out of school or whatever other afternoon obligations. We changed the format: classes would run from noon to two-thirty, and for a minimal extra fee, the café would provide box lunches. I had visions of making extra tuna salad, but the ladies could choose from tuna or chicken salad or a cheese and cold cuts sandwich that I’d recently added to the menu.

Our first meal was chicken piccata, and I carefully explained they could use the same lemon-and-butter technique with fish
or veal if they felt fancy. I offered two side dishes—whipped potatoes made with cream and a spinach casserole topped with French’s fried onions. Okay, I know—prepared food. But it would appeal to the men of the town, and they were our ultimate audience.

The ladies took copious notes, except for Sara Jo, who sniffed and didn
’t much participate, but I noticed she kept her portion of the food for her supper.

It was a delight to see
Carolyn Grimes at the class. She bubbled with happiness, and exclaimed, “Chester won’t know what hit him when I serve this. He’s used to chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and greens. But I think it’s time we went uptown.” She grinned at me.

“
How’s Chester?”

“
Oh, he’s fine as always. Nothing much to do but catch speeders, though last week we had some real excitement. A Peeping Tom. Chester was so mad anyone would do that in his town I thought he’d have a stroke. But all’s peaceful again.”

“
Give him my best,” I said.

She gave me a hug.
“I will. You know he’ll ask. And thank you, girl, for the cooking lesson. It just made my whole week. I can’t wait till the next lesson.”

Sara Jo was not so pleased with the experience.
“Maybe next week there will be more chit-chat while we eat lunch,” she said. “That’s what I signed up for.”

Wondering if she had an expense account to cover the class fee, I refrained from saying how glad I was she had enjoyed the meal. I had noticed she spent a lot of time watching
Bonnie Smith, mother of the boy Ava thought Sara Jo had a crush on. Bonnie proved to be a surprise to me—a sturdy, capable looking woman with a haircut that looked like she’d done it at home, slacks and a blouse I suspected she’d made, and work-worn hands. I gathered she was a homemaker in every sense of the word and instinct told me she was raised on a farm or a ranch and knew a lot about hard work. She hadn’t lost the muscles. But she looked nothing like tall, lank, and handsome Cary.

Once more, Sara Jo left me puzzling.
She had now been in Wheeler a little over a month and she showed no signs of leaving any time soon. What exactly was she looking for in her so-called research on small-town America? I couldn’t shake the feeling she was looking for something specific in Wheeler. And that worried me a lot.

****

When we were kids, we spent countless long, boring summer hours chunking rocks in a stock tank. I remember watching the ripples swell across the pond and marveling that one small thing could cause such a phenomenon. That was just the way it was with Ava’s attempted runaway, except I didn’t see that incident as one small thing. Still, its ripples spread across Wheeler for a while.

First there was Rick. We hadn
’t had a dinner date in a while, and one night he almost literally kidnapped me to take me to the little Italian place in Canton we both liked. We had a pleasant dinner, both of us ordering lasagna and a good Chianti. That is, it was pleasant until I told him about my talk with Ava and her suggestion Sara Jo Cavanaugh was spending a lot of time with the upper level athletes at the high school.

He grinned at me.
“Are you suggesting she’s a cougar?”

“
Maybe she is,” I replied. “I just think her research is kind of strange, don’t you?”