The Battered Body (24 page)

“Good morning, Professor!” Megan welcomed him. “Staff meeting today?”

James nodded in surprise. “I almost forgot all about that! If I hadn’t seen you, I would have driven right by.”

“Lucky you, then. I’ve made some heavenly cinnamon buns,” she said with a smile. “Fresh from the oven and just dripping warm maple-walnut frosting.”

“Those will definitely work,” James said, trying to retain enough control over his appetite to refrain from asking for an éclair, a Long John, or a jelly-filled donut to cram into his mouth in the privacy of his truck. “But don’t let me order
anything
for myself,” he begged. “I’m stressed right now and am trying to master my cravings when I feel like this.”

Megan studied James with concern. “Here.” She handed him a thin sliver of raisin bread. “You just need to chew on something, but it doesn’t need to be an entire layer cake. A few plump raisins combined with a crisp, buttery crust should settle you down without ruining your diet.”

She was right. Munching the fresh bread, with its ribbons of cinnamon and fresh, moist raisins, James felt himself relaxing. By the time he finished the snack, his intense desire to rapidly consume a pastry had passed.

“You are a wonderful woman.” He kissed Megan on the cheek. “Can you slice a loaf of that bread for me to take home to Milla and Pop? I believe it has magical healing powers.”

“Everything okay, James? You’re not fretting over that silly book, are you?” Megan shouted over the noise of the bread slicer.

“Ugh,” James groaned. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

“Easy to do, what with everybody talking about Gillian and Bennett.”

“People won’t discuss the two lovebirds for long,” James answered glumly. “Happy endings don’t make for good gossip.”

Megan handed him the cinnamon buns and bread. “I’m afraid that’s true. And the ending of Murphy’s book sure isn’t happy, even though it’s already been adding more dollars to my cash register. No complaints here about her writing about that poor boy who died here.”

James wasn’t interested in recalling the supper club’s first murder case. “What happens at the end of the book?”

“It’s too awful to say out loud, so you’ll just have to read it for yourself.” Megan patted him on the arm, wished him a lovely day, and then busied herself arranging a tray of black and white cookies.

James left the shop in a state of puzzlement, but he didn’t have much time to think about Chase Martin or Murphy’s books, because he reached the library within a few minutes. UPS had delivered boxes of books the day before, and Murphy’s book must have been inside one of the boxes because when James reached the circulation desk, the twins were each poring over a copy.

“This is the only chance we’re going to get to look at this book,” Francis explained apologetically. “We’ve got eighty-five requests for our three copies, and I heard Murphy’s going to be on
The Today Show
next week.”

“Why?” James asked crisply. “It’s a run-of-the-mill thriller. Dozens of books just like hers were released this month, so why is
she
getting that kind of publicity?”

“The show’s teaser mentioned the book in conjunction with the sudden death of the Diva of Dough,” Scott answered after a moment’s hesitation. “I think they’re going to spin that event so that it looks like Murphy has an insider’s perspective and a possible subject for her next mystery.”

“The mystery angle may prove correct.” James sighed heavily and told the Fitzgerald brothers about Chase’s death.

“Are you sure you should be here, Professor?” Francis eyed his boss carefully. “We can handle things if you need to hang out with Milla.”

The young man’s caring nature touched James. “Thanks, Francis, but we’re just a bit shocked. There’s nothing we can do about what happened, so we might as well put our heads down and get on with our day.”

Scott tapped on Murphy’s book. “I don’t know what the
Cellulite
Club
would do, but when this town’s been in trouble before, we could always look to your supper club to straighten things out.”

“You’re right!” James stared at Scott and then clapped the twin fondly on the back. “I’ll call a meeting for tonight. We can’t allow people to be pushed off our mountains!” he exclaimed. “We need to act!”

Scott and Francis watched their boss hurry into this office where he switched on his computer. “Way to distract him,” he heard Francis whisper. “He’s going to get all kind of grief from that book as it is.”

“I wasn’t trying to distract him,” Scott replied. “I meant what I said. Our boss is like a librarian superhero.”

“Dude, that would make an awesome graphic novel!” Francis remarked enthusiastically and the pair moved off, exchanging character, plot, and costume ideas.

“I hope they don’t make me wear a cape,” James muttered with a grin.

The supper club members didn’t have much time to prepare an elaborate meal for that evening, and since Bennett and James were interested in relatively low-calorie food, the five friends e-mailed one another until they agreed upon a simple, well-balanced meal. James assumed Lucy would be far too busy to cook, so he informed her via e-mail that she was exempt from having to bring anything but information to the Henry table. He then called Milla to forewarn her that she and Jackson should expect the supper club members to appear between six and six thirty.

“Thank the Lord!” she exclaimed happily. “Oh, please let me cook! It’ll give me something to do! I just discovered the perfect recipe for a healthy main dish: artichoke and sun-dried tomato chicken breasts drizzled with a nice pesto sauce. A little garlic, a few onions, and some excellent olive oil …” James could hear her making a mental grocery list.

“Don’t buy too much,” he advised. “Gillian’s making whole wheat spaetzle and Lindy’s bringing steamed zucchini. And I should help with
something
.”

“You can help me with the chocolate mousse. I know a sumptuous recipe that uses rich, dark chocolate instead of sugar, and brandy and coffee instead of heavy cream. It’s been ages since I made it, but I still remember how good it is.” She lowered her voice. “I have to confess, James, I am thrilled to have an excuse to get your father out of the house. There’s nothing on TV about Chase’s accident and he says he can’t focus on work without knowing more about what happened, but
I
know he’s really moping because he doesn’t know who to paint next. No one’s hands are inspiring him.”

“Oh dear.” James knew how ill-humored his father could be when he was between projects.

“I hope these awful events revolving around my family members aren’t going to turn him back into a hermit,” she added. “I wish I could think of something I could do to bring some sunshine back into our lives.”

“Me too,” James sympathized.

That evening, Bennett was the first to arrive. He handed James a thermos of hot spiced cider and fell into one of the kitchen chairs in exhaustion.

“My route has
never
taken as long as it did today. Every man, woman, and dog wanted to hash over my love life.” He shook his head wearily. “Man, what was I thinking doing what I did how I did it? That is
so
not my style!”

“Too late now,” James replied cheerily. He was enjoying Bennett’s public romance. “Besides, now you’ve given Murphy fodder for her next book.”

“Shoot, that’s the
other
thing everybody’s yapping about. What’s the big shocker at the end?” Bennett inquired as someone rapped knuckles against the panes of the back window.

“No clue,” James stated as he opened the door, letting in Lindy, Gillian, and a burst of cold air. “I haven’t read it.”

Lindy pulled the book out of her grocery bag, her face dark with anger. “I’m on chapter eleven, and every page I read makes me madder and madder. I spent my entire lunch hour plotting revenge against Murphy Alistair!”

“What’s your opinion?” James asked Gillian nervously.

Gillian removed a hand-knit turquoise beret from her head and fluffed her hair. “I don’t plan on reading it,” she answered calmly. “Ever. I’m certain I wouldn’t be pleased with Murphy’s depiction of my spiritual beliefs, and I would prefer
not
to have a reason to feel any animosity toward a member of my community. I’d like to continue to treat her with
respect
and
fellowship
.”

“You wouldn’t if you read the part about how the scented candles you burn while you’re trying to communicate with a moody parrot actually cause the bird’s death,” Lindy grumbled.

Gillian’s hands fluttered over her heart. “What?”

“Yep,” Lindy pursued ruthlessly. “His feathers catch fire and he burns up while screaming
‘Help me! Help me!’”

“That little witch!” Gillian snarled and ripped the book from Lindy’s hands. “What page is that on?”

Lindy opened to a section she had marked using a paper clip. “You think
that’s
bad? Read this! Here’s where I strip down to my underwear and lay across the school principal’s desk in hopes of seducing him. Luis, whose name is Carlos in this piece of trash, eventually enters his office and he has one of my art students with him! The boy takes a picture of me with his cell phone, and suddenly I’m all over YouTube!” She reddened. “I’ve never done anything remotely like this, but I’m terrified to show my face at school!” She snapped the book shut and tossed it on the table.

At that moment, Lucy let herself in the back door. Smiling at Lindy, she remarked, “And I thought
I
had a rough day.” She brandished the six-packs she held in each hand. “I got Miller Lite in case anyone wanted to join me, because after looking at Chase Martin’s battered body, a diet soda is
not
going to do it.”

Everyone accepted a beverage and moved into the dining room. James took a beer into the den, handed it to Jackson, and then said, “Everyone’s here, Milla. I think we should eat first and then listen to Lucy’s report.”

“Should I bring you a tray?” Milla asked Jackson.

Jackson nodded. “I’d rather watch
Deal or No Deal
than listen to all that yammering.” As Milla turned to leave the room, he grabbed the sleeve of her sweater. “But I’ll come in and sit with you when they talk about the boy.”

“You’re simply the sweetest man underneath all that huff and puff.” Milla kissed him on the forehead.

Over the next few minutes, James set the table as the supper club members carried in side dishes, a pitcher of water, and Milla’s fragrant entrée. They ate hurriedly, exchanging banal small talk about their days. When the meal first started, James found himself wondering if the tone of their gatherings would change after Bennett and Gillian’s public kiss, but the pair acted as they always had. Everyone laughed over Bennett’s descriptions of being teased and playfully harassed by the individuals on his mail route.

“And don’t tell me you’ve got some wacko tea that’ll ease my humiliation, woman.” Bennett pointed a finger at Gillian.

She fluffed her hair and replied, “You were able to answer the second Daily Double correctly because of your knowledge of herbal teas. Now, I
wonder
who told you all about that subject.”

As Milla served the chocolate mousse, to a chorus of appreciative
oohs
and
ahs
, Lucy could sense that it was time to turn to a more somber subject. After taking a reserved bite of her mousse, she nodded ever so slightly at James, signaling that he should collect Jackson from the den.

Milla scooted her chair closer to Jackson’s as soon as he was seated and, gripping the handle of her coffee cup, announced that she was ready for Lucy to begin.

“Chase Martin was definitely murdered,” Lucy stated flatly. “It would appear that he was hit on the back of the head with a blunt object—the ME thinks it might have been a shovel—and then positioned in the driver’s seat of his rental car.”

Lindy gasped. “That’s horrible! Do you think he was unconscious before … before the crash?”

“Most likely. It was a hard blow, the kind that would render most of us senseless,” Lucy said.

“That’s a
small
blessing in the midst of this
gargantuan
tragedy,” Gillian declared theatrically.

Lucy ignored the comment and continued. “The killer seems pretty confident that he or she won’t get caught. We don’t have the shovel, but this person didn’t bother with subtlety. We found blood evidence on the pavement where the car would have been parked before it went over the cliff, and there was a cinder block duct-taped to the gas pedal.”

“Now all you need is a set of fingerprints,” Bennett stated.

“Unfortunately, this guy wore gloves.” Lucy said. “And I’m going to refer to the murderer as a ‘he’ because this crime feels very male to me, but I’m not ruling out the possibility that the killer is a woman.”

James had listened quietly up to this point, but when the friends suddenly began exchanging ideas concerning motive, he cleared his throat and looked sadly at Milla. “Every suspect
I
come up with is female.” He quickly repeated the conversation he had overheard between Willow, Chloe, and Aunt Wheezie when they were together in the hotel lobby.