Boston Cream Bribery Read online

  “I wanted to see if you were investigating the attack on Van Rayburn,” Momma admitted.

  “Jake and I are poking around a little into it,” I admitted.

  “Jake, you’re working with her?” Momma asked, not able to mask being delighted by the news.

  “I am,” he admitted.

  The look of relief on her face wasn’t going to go unquestioned. “Momma, I’m perfectly capable of investigating things on my own. Besides, Grace is always there to back me up in case I need help.”

  “You girls have your own special skill sets, but goodness, your husband is a former state police investigator,” she said. “Surely even you can see the difference.”

  “Dot, I can assure you that Suzanne is perfectly capable of handling herself in nearly every situation she runs into,” Jake said proudly.

  “Nine times out of ten, I heartily agree with you. It’s that tenth time that always worries me,” she admitted.

  “Suzanne is nearly as resourceful as her mother, dear,” Phillip said. It was good having him support me, too.

  “I know that, but ultimately, she’s just my baby girl. When I look at her, I see a skinny little girl with pigtails, freckles, and a missing front tooth,” Momma said.

  “Wow, that must be a stretch, even for you,” I said. “Nobody’s called me skinny since middle school.”

  “Stop fishing for compliments,” Jake said with a smile. “I love the way you look.”

  “You have to say that. You’re my husband,” I told him.

  “No, I have to say it because it’s true,” he corrected me.

  Trish joined us at our table carrying two plates and looking a bit frazzled. “Hey, guys,” she said when she realized that Jake and I had slipped in while she’d been otherwise occupied. “What can I get you?” she asked as she slid the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans in front of Momma and Phillip.

  “Those look good,” I said. “You’re really hopping, aren’t you?”

  “What can I say? They come for the food, but they stay for my charm,” she said with a tired smile.

  “Maybe it’s time to hire another high school girl to help out in the evenings,” Momma suggested. “You’re clearly running yourself ragged.”

  “I’ve thought about it, but just when I get them trained, they leave me. Do you remember what a nightmare Allison Jackson was? Besides, I hate paying people to stand around when we’re not busy. I’m managing just fine.”

  “Trish, we’re still out of tea over here,” Mitch Jones said as he rattled his empty glass at Trish.

  “You know where the pitchers are, Mitch. The clear one is unsweetened, and the golden one is sweetened. Help yourself.”

  “That’s okay. I can wait,” Mitch said sullenly.

  “The last time I checked, your legs weren’t broken,” Trish said as she stood her ground and stared at him.

  “Fine, but this is going to affect your tip,” he threatened.

  “I think I can find a way to live without your fifty cents,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “While you’re at it, why don’t you go ahead and make the rounds. You can refill everyone else while you’re at it. Don’t worry, you don’t have to tip me at all tonight because of all of your hard work.” Her grin said it all.

  Mitch did as he was told without responding, and Momma said softly, “I can’t believe you actually put him to work.”

  “Was it too much?” Trish asked her.

  “Are you kidding? I think it’s fabulous,” she said.

  Trish beamed from my mother’s approval. Though I was her only child, many of the girls I’d grown up with had spent as much time at our cottage as they had at their own homes, and most of them felt as though Momma was theirs, too. In many ways, they were right, but I never got jealous. My mother had a heart big enough to love everyone, at least when she wasn’t doing her best to poke at my buttons.

  “What do you say, Jake? Two specials?” Trish asked him.

  “Sounds good to me. Do you want me to clear some empty tables while I’m waiting?” he asked with a smile as he started to stand.

  “Be careful what you’re offering. I might just take you up on it,” Trish said.

  “Enough said,” Jake replied as he grabbed a tub and began clearing tables.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Trish protested. Was she actually blushing?

  Jake just laughed. “The day I’m afraid of a little hard work is the day I hang it up as a human being.” My husband worked with alacrity, doing the job with the same gusto with which he handled anything he tackled.

  “Aren’t you going to help him?” Momma asked me.

  “It appears that he’s doing just fine all by himself,” I said, winking at Jake when I caught his eye.

  He grinned and winked back. I knew he was enjoying himself, and I wasn’t about to barge in on his fun. I half expected him to pick up an order pad and start waiting on customers, but he somehow managed to contain himself.

  Jake returned to our table a few minutes later after washing his hands. Momma and Phillip were still eating, but our food hadn’t arrived yet.

  “Have fun?” I asked him.

  “You know it,” he said.

  “What progress have you made on the attack?” Phillip asked between bites.

  “Phillip,” Momma said, warning him off the topic.

  I knew he understood, but he wasn’t going to just roll over for her. My mother needed someone strong in her life to stand up to her occasionally, and to my surprise, Phillip had become exactly that person. “Dot, it’s a fair question. I used to be on the force, too.”

  “You don’t need to remind me,” Momma said.

  “Admit it. You want to know, yourself,” he tweaked his wife with a grin.

  Momma tried to keep a stern face, but it quickly melted. “Of course I do,” she said.

  “So, spill the beans,” Phillip prompted us.

  “We have a ton of suspects, and a few thoughts as well,” I said when Jake nodded to me to begin. “So far, we’re looking at his sister, Noreen Walker, two ex-girlfriends, Vivian Reynolds and Gabby Williams, a former business partner, Bob Casto, an ally on the town council, Buford Wilkins, and a possible loan shark trying to make a point, though those last two aren’t as obvious as the others.”

  “My, that’s quite the list,” Momma said.

  “Tell them what else you suspect,” Jake prodded me.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “The fact that Van may be hiding something,” he prompted me.

  “Oh, that. I got the distinct impression that Van’s memory isn’t as foggy as he’d like everyone to believe,” I said.

  “Why would he pretend to have amnesia?” Momma asked.

  “Maybe he wants to settle the score himself,” Phillip said. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?” he asked as he poked his fork at me.

  “Right,” I said, remembering that, all in all, my stepfather had been a fairly decent cop once upon a time.

  “You left one name off your list though, didn’t you?” Momma asked soberly.

  “George didn’t do it,” I said firmly. I was a little surprised that my own mother thought the mayor might have done it.

  “I want to believe that too, but we all know what a temper he has,” she said as Trish arrived with our food. After she slid plates in front of us, she put our bill beside me.

  I glanced at it and saw that she hadn’t charged us enough. “This isn’t right.”

  Trish had clearly been hoping for me to comment. “Yes it is. I gave Jake the employee’s discount.” He started to dispute it, but Trish wouldn’t allow it. “Not a word of protest, sir.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” he said, something that we all knew was a lie. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “You’re mo
st welcome,” she said as she hurried off to take another customer’s money at the front.

  As we ate, Momma and Phillip lingered to chat with us. Momma kept frowning about something though, and I finally had to ask what was going on with her. “What’s wrong? Am I using the wrong fork or something?”

  “There’s only one at your plate, so I don’t see how that’s possible,” she answered.

  “Well, you’re clearly staring at me for something. Go on. Spit it out.”

  “I may know a few things that might be pertinent to your case,” Momma said. “Then again, they may both just be much ado about nothing.”

  “Why don’t you let us decide? Don’t hold back. At this point, we’ll take any help we can get,” I said.

  After taking a deep breath, Momma lowered her voice as she said, “First of all, George isn’t the only one Van Rayburn has argued with in public lately.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Three days ago I overheard him quarreling with Buford about a parking space in front of his shop. Buford wanted the parking meter removed so his customers wouldn’t have to pay to park, and Van told him to stop wasting his time, that it wasn’t going to happen.”

  I frowned. “Is that really significant?”

  “I know it sounds petty,” Momma admitted, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that for some people, the less power they have, the more they enjoy holding it over others. Buford was clearly upset by Van’s refusal, and they had words.”

  “I get that, but was he angry enough to clobber him?” Jake asked.

  “Probably not,” Momma said. “Then again, Vivian Reynolds might have been, after what I saw.”

  Now it was getting interesting. “What did you see?”

  “I saw Vivian was following Van down the street two days ago,” she said.

  “How is that significant, Dot?” Phillip asked my mother kindly.

  “You should have seen the look in her eyes. There was a hate there that startled me, but it wasn’t just the stalking that bothered me.”

  “What else happened?” Jake asked her.

  “When Van paused to cross the street, I saw Vivian speed up toward him. I thought for a moment she was going to push him out into the road, but Van must have changed his mind about crossing at the last second and started walking in another direction. The thing is, there was a cement truck that would have utterly destroyed Van if she’d gotten there in time and given him a shove at precisely the right moment. It was the closest thing to attempted murder I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

  “Okay, that is significant,” Phillip said. “What did you do?”

  Momma looked down at her hands for a moment before speaking. “I acted foolishly. Perhaps I’ve grown a little foolhardy being around the three of you, but without giving it another thought, I rushed over to Vivian and told her that I’d seen what she’d just tried to do, and that if anything happened to Van, I would make sure the police knew about it.”

  “Wow, that was absolutely reckless,” I said with a smile. “I don’t know that I’ve ever been prouder of you.”

  “It’s not amusing, Suzanne,” Phillip said, scolding me. “Dot, that was a dangerous thing to do.”

  “How did she react?” Jake asked her.

  “That’s the thing. She didn’t seem all that upset by it all. The only thing she said was, ‘You do what you have to do, and I’ll do the same.’”

  “That sounds like a threat to me,” Phillip said as he reached for their check. “We need to go tell the chief.”

  “Phillip, I can’t prove anything. As far as I know, no one else saw her actions, and she certainly didn’t broadcast her threat to me loud enough for anyone else to overhear her.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Until this thing is resolved, I’m not leaving your side,” her husband said.

  “As flattered as I am by the attention, it’s not necessary.” Momma looked at Jake and said, “Tell him he’s overreacting.”

  “Actually, I think his reaction is perfectly reasonable,” my husband said. “Vivian may or may not be a killer, but the woman is clearly off balance.”

  “Suzanne, be the lone voice of reason, would you?” Momma pled.

  “I wish I could, but I’m with them.”

  Momma frowned at all three of us in turn, and then she stood. “Fine. Let’s go find the police chief, Phillip.”

  “We’ll touch base with you later,” my stepfather said as they bustled out of the diner, throwing money at Trish on their way out.

  We were still eating, so once they were gone, we finished our own meals.

  Trish came by and asked, “Did you save room for dessert?”

  “Thanks anyway, but we’re stuffed,” Jake said.

  “Speak for yourself, John Alden,” I said, remembering a line from our third-grade play. “What have you got?”

  “Let’s see. There’s peanut butter pie, chocolate cake, and a triple threat brownie that’s good enough to break your heart.”

  “All three sound great to me,” I said. “You should offer a sampler platter.”

  I’d been joking, but clearly Trish took my suggestion to heart. “Not bad, Suzanne. I’ll be right back,” she said with a wicked grin.

  “I was kidding,” I said, but it was too late. She was already gone.

  “I really was just teasing,” I told Jake.

  “Really? Does that mean that you’re going to refuse samples of all three desserts when Trish comes back?”

  “Well, I don’t want to be rude,” I said with a grin.

  “I understand completely. In fact, I’d hate to be considered impolite myself, so in the spirit of being an all-around good guy, I’ll help you.”

  “What happened to being too stuffed to eat another bite?”

  “Suzanne, if I’ve learned anything from being married to you, it’s that there’s always room for a little treat.” His grin was infectious.

  Trish came back with two plates of samples, not one.

  “We can share,” I protested, though weakly at best. This way I’d be getting one all to myself.

  “You’re going to have to. The second one is for me. Mind if I join you?”

  “We’d be delighted,” Jake said.

  I couldn’t decide which treat I loved more, and everything was gone before I had a definitive answer. “You really should offer this on the menu.”

  “I will, but only when we have three equally worthy desserts,” she said. “You’re right, though. That was delicious.” Instead of getting up and gathering our plates, Trish added, “You’re looking into the attack on Van Rayburn, aren’t you? Don’t bother denying it. I’ve heard talk from a few folks that you’re snooping around.”

  “That’s interesting. Who exactly has been talking?” I asked her.

  “Wes Granger was in here complaining about it an hour ago,” Trish said. “I don’t know why he was telling me. Did he honestly believe that I’d ever take sides against you?”

  “He’s just upset that we think Bob Casto might have had something to do with what happened to Van,” I said.

  “You’re not the only one,” Trish said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Hey, I run the only diner in town. I hear things,” she said.

  “Anything that might help us in our investigation?” Jake asked her.

  “So far it’s all just been wild rumors and rampant speculation. In other words, my typical fare around here. There is one thing, though.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Gabby Williams wasn’t happy about Van dumping her,” Trish said softly. “I was doing inventory late last night when there was a knock at my door. It was nearly eleven, and I went to tell whoever was out there that we were closed, but then I saw that it was Gabby, and she’d obvious
ly been crying. I must have sat with her four hours before I could get her settled down. I can’t even count the number of times I almost fell asleep listening to her say what brutes men could be.”

  “That was so sweet of you,” I said.

  “Well, you know me. I never could stand seeing someone hurt,” Trish explained.

  “Are you sure about the timeline?” Jake asked.

  “Positive. I kept staring at the clock the entire time. It felt more like four years, if you know what I mean.”

  “Gabby owes you a huge favor,” Jake said. “You just gave her a solid alibi.”

  I’d been so wrapped up in Trish’s tale that I’d forgotten the chief had given us the timeline of Van’s night. Even if he never recovered his memory, or if he did and still refused to share it with us, Gabby was in the clear, and I was going to make sure that everyone knew it.

  “I’m glad it was good for something,” Trish said as she yawned. “I’m not sure I did her much good otherwise.”

  “You were there when she needed someone,” I said. “Hey, that makes you her new best friend.”

  Trish shuddered at the very thought of it. “No, thanks. I’d hate to take your place.” She stood, gathered up our dishes, and then we all made our way up front.

  “You really don’t have to give me a break on my meal,” Jake said.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

  “Then all I can say is thank you,” Jake replied. I noticed that the tip he left more than made up for the discounted meal, and it was all I could do not to chuckle at my husband’s handling of the situation.

  We walked out of the diner, stuffed to capacity by the delicious dessert medley. I grabbed my husband’s hand. “What’s next?”

  “I know we should probably be investigating, but why don’t we go home instead and sit out on the porch swing and watch lightning bugs in the park?”

  I laughed and gave him a big kiss. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

  “Besides, you have to get up to make donuts pretty early tomorrow,” Jake said.

  “Not tomorrow. Emma and Sharon are running the shop for the next few days. Like it or not, I’m all yours. You’re stuck with me.”