Cherry Filled Charges Page 2

  “Hey, take it easy,” she said as she lightly stroked my shoulder. “We’re on the same team, remember? If you don’t want to dig into this, we don’t have to.”

  “No, you’re right. Of course you’re right. I’d already reached the same conclusion myself. I just get so tired of dealing with bad guys sometimes, you know? When am I ever going to get some peace and quiet in my life?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, it won’t be until after this particular murderer is caught,” she said. “Come on. We can do this. Between the two of us, there’s nothing we can’t handle, and I’ll be there beside you every step of the way. It will be like old times, you know?”

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that,” I said, and then I gave my best friend a spontaneous hug. Though I was packing on at least fifteen more pounds than I should have been and Grace sported the same svelte figure she’d had since high school, embracing her gave me a great deal of comfort. Just knowing that she had my back, no matter what, was all that I really needed to get through this. “Okay,” I said as I pulled away. “We’re both on the same page, then. We dig into this until we find out what happened to Simon Reed, no matter who might have been involved in it. Thanks for the pep talk, Coach.”

  “No problem whatsoever. It’s the least I can do. After all, you’ve given me enough of them over the years,” she said with a smile. “I’m just glad I finally got the opportunity to return the favor. So, what’s our first step, boss?”

  “Don’t call me boss. I’m not in charge,” I said.

  “I sincerely hope that’s not true,” Grace answered with a grin. “Because if I’m running the show, our investigation is in serious trouble.”

  “You’re more than capable of being in charge,” I reminded her.

  “That point is debatable, but why should we wreck a good thing? Whether you like it or not, you’re good at this, and I have no desire to run things, so why don’t we leave things just the way they stand? You come up with the game plan, the list of suspects, and a continuing and ever-changing strategy to catch the killer.”

  “If I’m doing all that, then what exactly are you going to be doing?” I asked her with a grin.

  “Me? I’m here for inspiration, my odd perspective, and my ever-present charisma,” she said in reply, matching my smile with one of her own.

  “Don’t forget the fact that you’ve also got my back in case things get dangerous.”

  “You’d better believe it. I just didn’t know how to word it to make it sound cool. Bodyguard? No, that doesn’t seem right. Second banana? I’m not all that fond of that term, either. Can you come up with anything better?”

  “If we have to name your role, how about investigative associate?”

  “No, that sounds too formal and structured. I’ll take partner in crime, though.”

  I laughed, happy to have her in my life. Only Grace, not even Jake, could make me laugh at a time like this. My husband was wonderful in a great many ways, but only my best friend could make me giggle seemingly at will. “Okay, partner. Let’s head back to the bistro and see if there’s anyone there we can speak with about the newly deceased. I’m curious to see how the chief’s people are handling the crowd. It can’t be easy, given the circumstances.”

  “Who knows? We may just see a riot if we’re lucky,” Grace answered with a grin as we walked between Donut Hearts and ReNEWed to see what was going on.

  The back parking lot, or more accurately the pop-up bistro, at least for the next few moments, was cordoned off completely, with crime scene tape already stretched around the perimeter. Two officers were standing at the only gap in the tape, and the folks that had so recently been dining there were lined up single file, being released in an orderly manner that impressed me. We moved closer to the heart of the queue, and I watched them process Paige Hill, the owner of The Last Page bookstore across the street from my donut shop.

  “Name?” the officer asked her as he held out his notebook.

  “Darby, you bought a book from me yesterday on needlepoint. Are you telling me that you don’t recognize me this evening?” Paige asked him.

  “It was for my mother’s birthday,” the cop explained loudly, just to make sure that everyone within a two-mile radius heard his explanation.

  “Sure it was,” Paige said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry, Paige,” Darby said softly. “I’m just following orders. The chief’s a real stickler on us doing things by the book.”

  Paige’s expression eased up. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I know you’re just doing your job. For the record, my name is Paige Hill.”

  “Could we see some identification, please?” Darby asked, clearly expecting to be blasted again for making the request.

  “Fine,” Paige said as she flipped her wallet open, pulled out her driver’s license, and started to hand it over.

  “Just hold it up near your face, please,” Darby instructed.

  Paige sighed a little, but as she did as she’d been instructed, Officer Bradley took a quick photo and then checked the digital camera to be sure that he’d gotten a good likeness.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you gentlemen? My blood type is O positive, if that helps.”

  “No, that’s it. You can go,” Darby said, and then he added quietly, “Thanks, Paige.”

  “Thank you. I hope you catch whoever did it,” she said. As Paige walked past us, she stopped and asked, “Hello, ladies. What are you two up to?”

  I didn’t want any of the chief’s officers telling him about our amateur investigation prematurely, so I motioned for Paige to follow us until we could get a little space and, more importantly, privacy.

  “Everybody seems to be telling me what to do all of a sudden,” she said, almost sounding bemused. “Has the world gone mad?”

  “I just don’t want anyone overhearing our explanation of what we’re doing,” I said apologetically.

  Her mouth crinkled into a frown for a moment. “Well, everyone in town probably just assumes the same thing that I do.”

  “What’s that?” Grace asked.

  “That you two are going to investigate that young man’s murder,” she admitted. “Why, am I wrong?”

  “No, you’re not,” I said. “Paige, did you see anything out of the ordinary tonight?”

  “Maybe,” she said, biting her bottom lip for a moment. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, though.”

  “I can appreciate that,” I told her, “but a young man was murdered tonight, and if information you have might help name the killer, you need to tell us.”

  “But not the police?” she asked, one eyebrow arching.

  “By all means tell them, too,” I said.

  “But there’s no reason not to share it with us first, is there?” Grace asked with a grin.

  “No, I suppose not,” Paige replied. “Okay. I might as well tell you what I saw. That young man who died, Simon Reed, was arguing with a woman earlier.”

  That was old news. “He and Emma had a fight. We already know about that,” I said.

  “I’m not talking about Emma,” Paige said, a curious expression on her face.

  “What? Who was it?” I asked.

  “That girl over there,” Paige said as she discreetly pointed to a curvy young redhead who looked as though she’d been crying. Barton was comforting her, putting one arm around her shoulder and pulling their heads close together, as Emma stood a few paces back, clearly trying not to interfere but being handy if she was suddenly needed.

  “That’s Sherry West. I met her earlier. Did you happen to overhear what they were arguing about?” Grace asked.

  “She said that she wasn’t going to take it anymore, whatever that might have been, and then she gave him an ultimatum. Either he could pa
y her the attention she deserved and stop flirting so rapaciously, or she’d find someone else. She also added that he’d rue the day they’d met if he crossed her again, and believe me, she meant it.”

  “Did she really use the word ‘rapaciously,’ or was that your word choice?” Grace asked her.

  “Believe me, it was all her. You don’t hear that one every day. That’s what she said, though. It means…”

  “We know what it means,” I said.

  Grace nodded. “Not everyone might, though. I love it. I might have used the word ‘insatiably’ myself, but that works just as well.”

  “At least we know that the young lady isn’t stupid,” Paige said.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean that she still didn’t do something rash,” I said.

  Paige looked startled by the statement. “Do you honestly think she might have done it?”

  “We’re just gathering information right now,” I said. “Thanks for telling us what you overheard. You really should tell the police.”

  “I will,” she said with a determined nod. “Would you both do me a favor?”

  “Anything,” I said, not really meaning that my promise would be without limit. There were only three people alive I could make that vow to: Jake, Momma, and Grace.

  “Don’t tell anyone what I said until I’ve had a chance to tell the police myself.”

  “Of course,” I said. “If it helps, the chief was at the donut shop a minute ago when we left him.”

  Paige nodded her thanks, and after she was gone, Grace looked at me and whistled softly. “Imagine that. We might have an erudite killer on our hands this time.”

  “It’s hard to say at this point. We both know that intelligence doesn’t preclude someone from committing murder.”

  “Woowoo. Preclude. Now who’s showing off her extensive vocabulary? I would have said stop myself, but to each her own.” Grace was clearly goading me for a laugh.

  “Shut up,” I said good-naturedly. “Who’s next?” I asked as I scanned the crowd milling about. If we stood there and picked them off one by one after being interviewed by the police, it wouldn’t take the law enforcement officers long to realize what we were up to, but it was too convenient having our potential murderer served up to us on a platter to simply ignore the gift.

  We looked over the crowd going through the gauntlet, and I was surprised to see Gabby Williams storming toward us.

  What was wrong with her this time?

  I had a hunch that in a minute, I was going to find out.

  “Suzanne Hart, what a fine mess you’ve got me into again,” Gabby said. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d seen actual steam coming from her ears; she looked so upset.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked her, though I understood exactly what she’d meant.

  “This,” she said as she angrily gestured around the scene, “is all your fault.”

  “Gabby, are you accusing me of murder?” I asked her, knowing full well, or at least hoping, that she wasn’t saying anything of the sort.

  “Of course not. Don’t be a twit. But even you must admit that it wouldn’t have happened here if you hadn’t strong-armed me into allowing this fiasco to ever occur.”

  “Gabby, I doubt anyone has ever gotten you to do anything you didn’t want to at any time in your life,” I said.

  My comment seemed to take her aback, and as she began to reload, I saw Van Rayburn quickly approach. The two had been dating for some time now, but it still struck me as odd seeing them together. “Gabby. Remember what the doctor said,” he said gently as he neared us.

  “Doctor? Is something wrong with you?” I asked her, suddenly concerned for my friend’s health.

  “Of course not. They earn their livings making us worry about things that don’t matter,” she said abruptly.

  “High blood pressure is nothing to ignore,” Van said. “Now try to calm down and breathe.”

  Instead of flying off the handle at him as I’d expected, Gabby nodded, seemed to take a moment, and then she took in a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then slowly expelled it. She repeated this a few times until she seemed to be back to normal, at least for her. “Sorry about that, Suzanne. I shouldn’t have yelled. I just can’t believe this happened.” As Gabby spoke, her words were indeed much calmer than they’d been when she’d first approached me with fire in her eyes. “I know you didn’t cause this.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that,” I said hesitantly. Was that actually an apology? Wow, Van must be working miracles with her. “I truly am sorry this ever happened.”

  “It’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself,” she said, biting her lower lip in an effort not to attach more blame to me.

  “Let’s go,” Van said, taking her hand in his. Gabby seemed to smile a little at his touch, and they walked off toward ReNEWed together.

  “Did that actually happen, or was I having a hallucination just now?” Grace asked from behind me. She’d taken a few steps back when Gabby had approached, out of self-defense, no doubt, based on their history together.

  “I saw it too, and I’m having a hard time believing it myself,” I said.

  “It just goes to show that an old dog can learn new tricks,” Grace replied with a grin.

  “I have an idea. Let’s test your theory and go tell Gabby what you just said and then see how she reacts,” I answered, smiling in return.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  The bemusement we both felt about the situation suddenly vanished as Emma Blake, my assistant at Donut Hearts and, more importantly, my dear friend, approached us, crying.

  Chapter 3

  “Suzanne, Grace, you’ve got to do something!” It was hard to understand Emma’s words through her sobs, and I wrapped her up in my arms to offer her what little comfort I could.

  “Breathe, Emma,” I said, giving her the same advice Van had recently given Gabby.

  After several moments, she finally managed to calm herself. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” I said. “How can we help?”

  Emma was clearly fighting back the tears as she said, “It’s Barton. The chief just took him away for questioning! He didn’t kill Simon! I know it!”

  “Hang on,” I said. “The chief really took him in?”

  She nodded. “He said it was too hard to talk to him with everyone else standing around listening in,” Emma said. “I wanted to go with him, but neither one of them would let me. I’m a grown woman. I deserve to be there.”

  I could appreciate the sentiment, but I knew there was no way the police chief could let her be present during that particular conversation. “I’m sure it’s not nearly as bad as you’re imagining right now,” I said, trying my best to assure her.

  “That’s because you don’t know what happened,” she said meekly.

  “We know that Simon made a pretty direct pass at you, you slapped him, and Barton saw the whole thing,” Grace said succinctly, if not tactfully. “Was there something else?”

  “It wasn’t nearly as lurid as all that,” Emma answered. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal of it.”

  I took Emma’s hands in mine and looked deep into her eyes. “Now you listen to me, young lady. You were assaulted by an unwelcome advance, plain and simple, and you retaliated. You did nothing wrong, okay? We would have reacted the same way you did, wouldn’t we, Grace?”

  “Well, personally I think he got off easy with a slap to the cheek,” Grace said. “If it had been me, he would have left with a limp.”

  “Grace,” I said softly, reminding her gently that Simon had been murdered, after all. I didn’t approve of his behavior, but the punishment seemed severe for the crime, to say the least. He’d deserved the slap, and quite possibl
y more, but his action hadn’t been grounds for homicide.

  “Sorry. I just hate the type of guy that thinks it’s all fun and games, and they can do whatever they want to without any ramifications for their actions.”

  “We get it,” I said. It wasn’t the right time for a lecture on polite social behavior, no matter how much I agreed with her. “Emma, does Barton have an attorney, or should we call someone for him?”

  “His cousin is some hotshot lawyer in Asheville. I told him to call him, so he’s covered.”

  “Good,” I said.

  Grace pulled her phone out as we were talking.

  “Who are you calling?” Emma asked her.

  “I want to see why Stephen pulled Barton in to the station,” she said. After ten seconds, she hung up. “No luck. It went straight to voicemail.”

  “He probably knew you’d be calling about Barton,” I said.

  “What can I do?” Emma asked, nearly in tears again. The girl was falling apart on us, not that she didn’t have good reason.

  “There’s really nothing much that you can do at this point,” I said.

  “Maybe not, but there’s something you two can do. Suzanne, you and Grace need to figure out what really happened to Simon.”

  “We already know what happened,” Grace reminded her.

  “That’s not what I meant. You have to find out who did it,” she said.

  “No matter what we might find?” I asked gently.

  Emma turned on me as though I’d just slapped her. “Do you honestly think Barton did it?”

  “At the moment, I don’t think anything,” I said, carefully weighing my words. “But what if we find something you aren’t happy with knowing? It’s important for you to know that once we start digging, we can’t ignore the truth once we find it.”