Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) Read online

  The man grinned at him for a moment, and then he answered, “Take it easy, Cam. I’m not here for you.” He looked at us, each in turn. “You must be Pat and Annie.”

  “Guilty as charged,” I said, which was my normal response, though maybe not that appropriate at the moment, given the circumstances. It was pretty clear that the police chief felt that way, anyway.

  “Why don’t you two come back to my place with me, and I’ll make something to warm us up. You won’t get anything from the chief, here, not if he doesn’t want to give you the information.”

  “So, it’s finally sinking in, is it?” Chief Cameron asked with the hint of a smile.

  “I was talking to them,” Davis said with a smile of his own. “Come on, you two. Let’s go.”

  I wanted to stay and talk to the police chief a little more, but Davis was probably right. The chief wasn’t exactly in a chatting mood.

  “Chief, over here!” one of the deputies called out. “I think I found it.”

  “Found what?” Davis asked, shining his own light in the officer’s direction.

  “You all need to leave right now,” the chief said, blocking our vision of what had just been discovered. “Unless you want to spend the night in jail.”

  “Would you really lock the mayor up just for doing his job?” Davis asked him.

  “Try me.”

  Davis laughed softly and then shrugged as he turned to us. “Are you ready?”

  “Let’s go,” Annie said.

  “How did you know we were out here?” I asked him as my sister and I followed him back down the path toward his home.

  “I was watching you from the window,” Davis said. “There’s a lot of that going on around here. Sometimes I think we live in a community of peepers.”

  “Did you happen to see Cheryl on her way home last night?” I asked him.

  “No, sadly, I’d been up since four a.m., and by the time she took what turned out to be her last walk home, I was probably sound asleep in front of the History Channel. You know, for a station that has the word ‘history’ in its very name, there’s not a great deal of history being broadcast on it, at least as far as I’ve been able to determine.”

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” I said, fighting to keep us on topic. “Do you have any information on what really happened to Cheryl Simmons?”

  “I heard that you two were the real sleuths in the family, despite your sister’s official status as sheriff,” Davis said.

  “How do you happen to know so much about us?” Annie asked him.

  “You’re kidding, right? Your aunt hasn’t been able to stop talking about you all since she got in contact with your older sister again. Believe me, I know all about you.”

  “I doubt that,” Annie said with a grin.

  “Yes, you’re probably right,” he conceded. “Come on up.”

  “Should we all go over to Aunt Della’s together instead?” Annie asked him.

  I could see Davis’s frown in Annie’s light. “Probably not. What we have to talk about is most likely just going to upset her.”

  “You know something about what happened to Cheryl Simmons, don’t you?” I asked him.

  “Maybe,” he answered. “Did Della happen to tell you anything about me?”

  “Not a peep, but I’ve got a few guesses,” I said.

  Davis laughed. “I bet you do. Why am I not surprised that Della hasn’t mentioned me? Well, as you might have suspected, I’m the mayor of this fair city, but that’s not my full-time job. I also own and run the town’s newspaper.”

  “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Annie asked him.

  “No, it’s perfect. If there’s any corruption in city hall, I’m the one who knows all about it. I can scoop the rest of the world by exposing it and facilitating my own downfall. It’s kind of perfectly ironic, don’t you think?”

  I liked this man’s wry sense of humor. “You must have the best resources in town, given both of your vocations.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But all I’ve been able to find out so far is that Cheryl was murdered between ten last night and four this afternoon.”

  “What are you basing that on?” Annie asked.

  “It’s easy. Cheryl left Della’s at ten, and walkers found her body this afternoon at four. From the look of things, Cheryl must have rolled off the path into the water; whether she had help or not is yet to be determined. Given the weather we’ve been having lately, it’s lucky that she was found when she was. If it had been someplace else, we most likely wouldn’t even know that she was dead yet.”

  “People were out walking, even this time of year?” Annie asked. “Isn’t it a bit brisk?”

  “It is for me,” Davis said, “but not for the Go Girls.”

  “I’m sorry, the Go Girls?” I asked.

  “That’s what we call the three women in their seventies who powerwalk that path every late afternoon. They are so reliable, you can set your watch by them. They are all widows, and they go around the lake every day together, rain or shine. The only time they don’t walk is in the snow, and we haven’t had much accumulation this year, at least not so far.”

  “That must have been a horrible discovery for them,” Annie said.

  “The girls are tough, and at least they had each other,” Davis said. “I wonder what Cam and his people found just now.”

  “Is there any way you can find out?” I asked.

  “Not right now, but ask me again in the morning.”

  “In the meantime, could we ask you some other questions about what’s been going on?” I asked him.

  “Sure, I’ll be happy to help if I can.” Before he could finish though, he got a phone call, excused himself, and then stepped away. After a few minutes of hushed conversation, he came back. “Sorry. I’m going to have to postpone this conversation until tomorrow.”

  “Is it about the murder?” I asked him.

  Davis would only shrug. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other tomorrow.”

  “Absolutely,” Annie said, and we headed back down the path toward Della’s place as Davis took off toward his own home.

  “That was frustrating,” I said as we made our way back to Della’s.

  “No worries, Pat. Like he said, we can always catch up with him tomorrow,” Annie said. “For now, let’s go talk to our aunt again.”

  “She’s already said that she can’t help us with Cheryl’s murder case,” I reminded her.

  “According to her, there’s a great deal more than that we can talk about,” my sister said.

  “Sis, I don’t really want to get into family history tonight.”

  “I’m talking about the attempts on her life,” Annie replied. “We might not be able to work on Cheryl’s murder right away, but we can at least ask Della what makes her think that someone wants her dead.”

  CHAPTER 5: ANNIE

  “What took you both so long?” Aunt Della asked as she flung the door open for us. “I was about to call the police.”

  “We met your police chief while we were out there,” Pat said.

  “What? Why? How did that happen?”

  “Relax, Aunt Della,” I said. “Pat and I were on our way to Davis’s place when we saw lights on the path. The chief and three of his staff were out searching for something.”

  “What were they looking for?”

  “We don’t know,” Pat said, “but from the sound of it, they found it.”

  “Did Cam tell you what it was they uncovered?” our aunt asked.

  Cam, was it now? I wondered if everyone in town called him that or if it had been her pet name for him. Davis had called him that as well, so maybe it didn’t mean anything. Then again, maybe it did. I couldn’t see the police chief and my aunt involved romantically, but then again, I knew that life threw some strange couples together. Pat and his new girlfriend were a case in point, given that she was a vet, though Timothy and I suited each other quite well, at least our lifestyle choices
. “He didn’t share that particular bit of information with us,” I told her.

  “Or much else, for that matter,” Pat added. “He wasn’t really all that helpful.”

  “I’d better phone Davis. He’ll be worried sick that you didn’t show up.” Was there a hint of scolding in her voice as she said it? Did our aunt still think we were the children we’d been when she’d last seen us? I wasn’t about to put up with that, and I knew without a doubt that Pat wouldn’t, either.

  “Della, relax,” Pat said amiably.

  “We saw him, too, while we were out there,” I quickly added. “Davis is kind of nice, isn’t he?”

  “The truth is, he’s been sweet on me for some time now,” our aunt said.

  Seriously? Maybe the police chief had been right about Aunt Della after all. First our aunt had told us that she’d dated the police chief once upon a time, and now, apparently the mayor was in love with her. “Why wouldn’t he be?” I asked, giving my voice a hint of sarcasm.

  She took it as a compliment, but Pat grinned at me discreetly.

  “I’ll have you know that I am considered quite the catch in some circles,” Aunt Della said.

  “No doubt. Could we talk about what’s been happening in your life that has you so worried?” I asked before she could tell us that someone else was secretly in love with her as well.

  “I told you, Davis knows everything. Didn’t he share anything with you?”

  “He was called away abruptly before we could talk much,” Pat said. “But what we need now we can’t get from him.”

  “I told you earlier, I don’t know anything about what happened to Cheryl,” Aunt Della said with a frown.

  “That’s not what we need right now,” my twin brother said patiently. “We need to hear what led you to call Kathleen in the first place.” Pat hadn’t meant any judgment by his statement; I could hear that much in his voice, but evidently our aunt took it otherwise.

  “Patrick, are you still upset that I reached out to your older sister instead of either one of you?” Della asked.

  My brother shook his head. “Della, I’m sorry if you’re feeling guilty about not contacting Annie or me earlier, but I’m not judging you on what you did before. As far as I’m concerned, we’re starting out with a clean slate here. At least that’s my intention.” I could see his frustration building, and I couldn’t really blame him. The woman may have been family, but she was beginning to drive me crazy. I could only imagine how Pat must have been feeling.

  It was time to get her back on the subject. “You said that you were in fear for your life. Why?” I asked.

  “I don’t like talking about it,” Aunt Della said, biting her lower lip after she said it.

  “I realize that it can’t be pleasant for you, but we need to know the details if we stand any chance of helping you,” I said.

  “I suppose I don’t have any choice, do I?” she asked. “Would you like some coffee before we get started? I need some myself.”

  I could see that Pat was about to prod her again, but I knew that we had to let Della tell us what we were wanting to know at her own pace, or we’d never get anything out of her.

  “That sounds lovely,” I said as I followed her into the kitchen.

  “Seriously?” Pat whispered to me.

  All I could do was shrug.

  “I have some cookies I bought at the Winter Wonderland yesterday,” Aunt Della said as she reached into the cabinet and brought out a brightly wrapped paper plate of snowflake cookies and gingerbread snowmen.

  “We saw the signs for that coming in,” I said, trying to make conversation to ease her into talking to us. “Was it fun?”

  “I thought it would be at first, but if I knew how much work it would be to act as co-chair of it all, I never would have let Henrietta talk me into it in the first place.”

  “You mean to say that you helped run the whole thing?” I asked.

  “It was a great deal of work, but it was all done for a good cause. The local school system’s budget has been slashed by the state again, and we decided to raise money to help out in whatever way we can.”

  “Was it a success?” Pat asked as he nibbled at a snowman. I knew that was the one he would go for; my brother had a weakness for gingerbread that bordered on obsession.

  “We won’t know until Henrietta and I get around to tallying up the final receipts and paying our expenses. Not everyone was kind enough to donate their services, so we had to cover quite a few costs. Henrietta’s in charge of all that, so I really don’t have a clue as to where we stand at the moment, but I’m hopeful.”

  I could see that Pat was finished with the small talk. Him biting off the snowman’s head was a pretty good sign that he was getting more frustrated with the situation by the minute.

  “Aunt Della, how did someone try to kill you?” I asked her.

  She sighed heavily, but it must have been clear to her that we weren’t going to be put off any longer. “Three days ago, I was inspecting the parade route on First Avenue. They call it Freedom Lane now, but it will always be First Avenue to me. Anyway, I was standing in front of the bank trying to see if there would be enough room for the bystanders and the floats we’d be having when something fell off the roof and nearly split my head wide open right there on the sidewalk.”

  “What fell?” Pat asked her, suddenly losing all interest in the snowman he’d been eating so intently just a second earlier.

  “It was one of the snowmen from the roof,” she said. “It landed within four feet of me, and I have to say, if it had been a direct hit, I wouldn’t be here with you both right now.”

  “A snowman?” Pat asked her.

  “Like the ones we saw in town, I’ll bet, not one really made of snow. It was plywood, right?” I asked her.

  “Of course it was made of wood. Did you see any snow on your drive in?”

  “Is there any chance the falling snowman might have been an accident?” I asked her. “You said yourself that it’s been awfully windy lately.”

  “That’s what Riley Jenkins, the contractor who was in charge of putting them up everywhere, kept trying to say, but I know better. Things just don’t fall from the sky for no reason, even if no one was supposed to be up there when it happened. What I want to know is what made that particular snowman fall at the precise moment that I was standing directly beneath it?”

  “Actually, you weren’t. If you had been, it would have hit you on the head, and you wouldn’t have been in any condition to talk to us right now,” Pat reminded her.

  “It very well could have, if my reactions hadn’t been so finely honed after years of doing yoga three nights a week at the rec center.”

  I didn’t even know how to respond to that. “What else has happened? Surely one incident isn’t enough to cause so much alarm,” I said.

  “Then there was the parade itself. I was making my way through the crowd to be sure that everything went off without a hitch when someone shoved me in the back out into the path of the fire truck. I could have easily been killed right then and there, and there’s no way you can possibly write that off as mere coincidence.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. You said that this happened during the parade. Exactly how fast was the fire truck going?” Pat asked her.

  “Not very,” she conceded, “but given the way that it happened, I could have been crushed before anyone actually knew what was happening. If it hadn’t been for Davis next door, I would be dead yet again.”

  “What does the mayor have to do with you escaping harm?” I asked her.

  “Why, he’s the one who reached out and pulled me back from the brink of death,” Aunt Della said.

  “That’s two. Are there any more?” Pat asked.

  “Do you mean besides the fact that someone killed my best friend coming home from visiting me while wearing my coat? I’ve got to say, I don’t care for your questions, young man.”

  “Aunt Della, you asked us for our help, remember?” Pat was ke
eping his cool, and I was proud of him for doing it. “We’re just trying to figure out what really happened.”

  “It’s all part of the process,” I said. “Now, did anything else happen?”

  “Besides being nearly poisoned to death, you mean?” she asked petulantly. “Does that count?”

  “Tell us what happened,” Pat said.

  “At the town supper after the parade, I grew desperately sick from something I ate. It became immediately obvious that I had been poisoned by someone intending to harm me.”

  “Hang on a second,” I said, beating Pat to the punch. “How do you know that?”

  “It’s simple. No one else was sick from the food but me,” she said.

  “I’m not trying to imply anything, but you don’t look sick,” Pat said.

  “Are you doubting me?” she asked him.

  “No, ma’am. I’m just saying that you recovered pretty quickly, if this all just happened yesterday evening,” he said.

  “What can I say? I’m a quick healer. I always have been. Whatever I ingested was meant to kill me, though. I had to run to the ladies room before I embarrassed myself, and when I got back, someone had removed the evidence. My plate was gone, so I can’t even prove that I was poisoned.”

  I imagined that any unclaimed plate of food would be tossed in order to keep the place clean, but I wasn’t about to bring that up.

  “So you see,” Aunt Della said, “None of this was simply in my mind. That plywood fell near me, I was nearly pushed under the fire truck, I barely escaped dying of poison, and when none of those things worked, someone killed my best friend, thinking it was me.”

  “Did you share all of this with anyone else?” Pat asked.

  “Who else would I tell?” she asked.

  “The police chief, the mayor, even Henrietta, just to name a few,” Pat said. “We need to know who else is aware of what has been happening to you.”

  “I’ve kept it all to myself. I trust only my family at a time like this,” she said sternly. “I thought I could count on you.”

  Why on earth did she think that, after such a long absence on her part? I could see Pat gearing up for a rebuttal when I cut him off. “Okay, if that’s it, we’ve got the basics down now. Let us look around town, ask a few questions, and see what we can find out,” I said as I started to stand up.