Cast Iron Motive (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 4) Page 6

  “I can’t argue with you there. Annie, do you believe Della?”

  “What, her theories about who might want to see her dead?” my sister asked me softly.

  “Not just that, but the fact that it appears that all of the men in town over fifty consider her an object of obsessive desire, at least according to her,” I answered.

  “Be nice,” she said as she swatted at me.

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” I stretched out on the couch once we made it up, and to my surprise, though it hadn’t been all that comfortable to sit on, it made a shockingly adequate bed. I wouldn’t trade it for my own spot back home above the Iron, but it would do in a pinch, and as a bonus, I didn’t have to deal with the pink nightmare that Annie faced every time she opened her eyes.

  “You’re really trying with her, aren’t you? I’m proud of you, Pat.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you noticed,” I said with a smile.

  She patted me on the head, and then she said, “I’ll let you get some sleep. See you in the morning.”

  “Not if I see you first,” I said, a childish response that we still used occasionally. We might not be kids anymore, but in certain ways, we’d never really grown up, which suited me just fine.

  It was an uneasy sleep, due more to the fact that I was not at home in my own bed than the fact that I was on my aunt’s couch. I seemed to wake up every ten minutes, and I’d just gotten back to sleep sometime around two a.m. when I heard someone scrambling around on the front porch. The cottage was a creaky old beast, and the footsteps outside were hard to hide. I sat up from the couch and looked at the front door just as the handle started to jiggle a little. Had we locked the place up before bed? I’d just assumed that Della had taken care of it, but now I wasn’t so sure. I got up from the couch and made my way to the door, grabbing a lamp along the way after jerking the plug from the wall. It was a testament to my aunt’s love of all things modern, full of gleaming, sharp angles, but I didn’t have any problem with it at the moment, since the base had been fashioned from a large hunk of polished steel. It had a good heft to it, and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “Who’s there?” I asked loudly as I tried to find the light switch that controlled the porch lights. Instead of finding that one, though, I managed to turn the overhead living room lights on, instantly killing my night vision. After another failed attempt, I found the right switch and flicked it on as I peered outside.

  Whoever had been there was now gone.

  I was just about to open the front door to investigate further when Annie and Della came into the room.

  “What’s going on, Pat?” my sister asked.

  “Someone was outside,” I said.

  “It was probably just the wind,” my aunt said. “This place makes more noise than a bagful of badgers when a stiff wind is blowing.”

  “The doorknob started turning, and I haven’t seen the wind that will do that,” I said. “You both need to stay right here while I check this out.”

  “Come on, Pat. We both know that’s not happening,” Annie said as she hurried to join me.

  “Both of you need to stay inside right now,” Della commanded. “I’m going to call Cam.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you, but you can go ahead and do what you want to,” I said, ignoring her earlier demand to stay right where I was. I unlocked the door and stepped outside, still carrying the lamp in my free hand. It was freezing, and I instantly regretted not grabbing my coat and shoes first.

  “Trying to shed a little light on the situation?” Annie asked as we both realized that whoever had been outside was now long gone.

  “It was the closest thing I had to a weapon,” I acknowledged as my teeth began to chatter. “Let’s go back inside. I didn’t just dream that, Annie. Someone really was trying to break in.”

  “I never doubted you for a moment. Is break-in the right term? You said they tried the doorknob.”

  “Okay, but criminal trespass doesn’t sound nearly as dramatic, does it?”

  “Come on, little brother,” she urged me. I was getting colder by the second, and she must have been as well.

  I made doubly sure that the door was locked before I joined Annie and Della in the kitchen.

  “When will the police chief get here?” I asked her.

  “I didn’t think you wanted me to call him,” she said. “Should I phone him now?”

  “No, I don’t think it will do us any good now, and it might hurt our credibility if we need him for something else later,” I said. “Thanks for taking my advice.”

  “It would be silly not to, given the fact that I brought you both here to help me,” Della said, and then she stifled a yawn. “Is it safe to go back to bed, or should I make another pot of coffee?”

  “If I drink any more caffeine tonight, I’ll never get back to sleep,” Annie said, and then she turned to me. “Pat, what do you think?”

  “I believe the danger is past for tonight,” I said. “Della, do you always lock the front door before you turn in for the night?”

  “It’s such a sleepy little town, most nights I forget to do it completely. It’s not just me, though. Most folks leave their doors unlocked around here.”

  “I doubt many did after Cheryl Simmons was murdered,” I said. “Do me a favor. From now on, make sure that everything’s locked up tight before you go to bed or even leave the house during the daytime.”

  “Should I check the front door now, or did you lock it behind you?”

  “I locked it,” I admitted, “but it wouldn’t hurt to get in the habit anyway.”

  She did as I asked and checked the door again. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned to me and said, “All secure.”

  “How about the back door? Does this place have a basement, and if so, does it have its own access to the outside? Are all of the windows locked, first floor and second as well?” I asked her, peppering the questions at her in rapid fire before she had a chance to respond to the first inquiry.

  “I don’t know,” she said hurriedly. Was she about to start crying again? Had I been too tough on her, or was she just being overly sensitive? I couldn’t really blame her if she were. After all, whether it was true or not, Della believed that someone was trying to kill her, and they’d struck down her best friend as well. Why wouldn’t she be a little edgy about the situation?

  “No worries. We’ll all check them right now,” Annie suggested before I could. “Why don’t you take the first floor, Aunt Della? I’ll check the upstairs windows, and Pat can have the basement.”

  Oh, boy. I wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea of going down there alone, but it needed to be done. I found the light switch at the head of the stairs and made my way down. The basement lacked any charm at all, and it appeared that my aunt had decided to use the area to store anything that didn’t go with her upstairs décor. It looked as though a flea market had exploded down there, and I had to make my way through thin aisles to get to the rear door and the lone window.

  They had both been unlocked.

  As I latched and locked them tight, I kept feeling eyes peering at me from the clutter inside, and I didn’t quite run up the stairs, but it was close enough to it to count. Once I was on the main floor again, I locked the door leading down there as a secondary precaution.

  When I turned around, Annie was standing there grinning at me. “How’d it go?”

  “Fine. Everything’s locked up tight now. How about upstairs?”

  “We’re all set,” she said. “Della decided to go back to bed, but if you want me to help stand watch, I’ll take a shift.”

  “No, I meant what I said. We should be good, at least for tonight,” I said. “If whoever tried to get in stuck around any length of time at all, they’ll know that we’re here, and we’re ready for them.”

  “Pat, do you really think it was someone coming for Della? Could she be right about what’s been happening around here lately?”

  “It’s looking more and mor
e like it to me,” I admitted. “I’m not sure exactly why it’s happening, but something is definitely going on.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Would you like to take the pink bedroom for the rest of the night? I don’t mind sleeping down here.”

  Her offer was sweet, but there was no way I was going to put my sister in jeopardy just because I wanted a comfortable place to sleep. “I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” I hesitated a second, and then I asked her, “That offer wasn’t like the flashlight thing before, was it?”

  “No, this time I meant it,” she said.

  “Thanks, but I’m happy with the way things are.”

  “I’ll go, but you have to make me a promise first. If you see or hear anything else, come get me before you decide to do anything stupid. Agreed?”

  “If there’s time for it, sure, but what if I don’t have a chance? I may have to react immediately if something else happens.”

  She thought about that for a few seconds. “Okay, I suppose that would be all right. Just don’t go getting yourself hurt, or something even worse.”

  “I’ll do my best not to,” I said, trying to force a grin that I didn’t feel. “Now go to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and we need what little sleep we have a chance to get now.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to nod off, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

  After Annie was back upstairs, I toyed with the idea of staying awake in case I was wrong about our surprise guest coming back, but the only purpose that would serve would be to deprive me of some much-needed sleep. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses from the pantry. After stacking them in front of the front door, I decided that if anyone tried to get in again, the glasses would fall and serve as an alarm. I doubted that any fictional detective would create such a haphazard alarm system, but I was tired, it was late, and morning would be arriving much too soon for my taste. It would just have to do, but I made a mental note to take them down before the women got up. Just because I was a little spooked, there was no reason to share my fears with them.

  It must have helped, as little a measure as it was, because to my surprise, I managed to fall back asleep fairly quickly, and I didn’t wake up again until I felt someone’s presence looming over me where I slept.

  CHAPTER 8: ANNIE

  “Glasses? Really? Please tell me that you got thirsty last night and decided to get a couple of drinks of water,” I said as I grinned down at my brother, holding his primitive burglar alarm system in my hands.

  “It was the best I could do, given the situation,” Pat admitted.

  “Actually, it’s kind of clever,” I said. “I would have moved the chair in front of the door if I’d been sleeping down here, so you’re braver than I was.”

  “I doubt that,” he said as he stood and stretched. “I can’t believe I fell back asleep. How about you? Did you have any luck?”

  “Amazingly, yes. Has Aunt Della been downstairs yet?”

  “How would I know? You woke me up, remember?”

  “Pat, could something have happened to her last night?” I hadn’t even considered the possibility that whoever had tried to visit us the night before would really come back, but now I was getting worried. I headed for the stairs, with Pat close on my heels.

  We nearly collided with Della as she came out of her room, dressed for the day and clearly perplexed by our behavior. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  She didn’t quite buy that. Was there a grin on her face as she asked, “You were worried about me, weren’t you?”

  “Okay, I admit it,” I said. “So, why would that make you smile, given the circumstances?”

  “It’s been quite some time since anyone’s been concerned about my welfare. Is it my fault that I like the feeling?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “What would you two like for breakfast?” she asked us as we all made our way back down the stairs.

  “I’m really sorry, but we can’t eat with you,” Pat said.

  “What? Why not? You have to eat something,” Della protested.

  “We’re going to the diner downtown,” Pat said. “I think it’s called Moe’s.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of making you something better than you’ll get there,” our aunt protested. “What kind of hostess, let alone aunt, would I be to send you down there for your meals?”

  “Do I need to remind you that we aren’t here for the food, or the company?” Pat asked her gently. “Annie and I need to get the lay of the land, and the best way for us to do that is to have breakfast at the diner.”

  “Very well. I suppose it sounds like fun at that, but I’m getting the check. I understand their waffles are quite good.”

  I didn’t want to make Pat be the one who had to tell her that she couldn’t join us, so I spoke up first. “Aunt Della, nobody’s going to talk to us if you’re sitting there with us.”

  “Of course they will,” she said. “That’s utter nonsense.”

  “They’ll talk,” Pat agreed, “but not about the case. We’ve done this before, remember? That’s why you asked us for our help. You’re going to have to just trust us.”

  “I do. Of course I do.”

  “Then we’ll see you later,” Pat said. “I need to get dressed, and then we’re off.”

  Pat grabbed his bag and went into the powder room on the first floor. Since I’d already changed, I was already ready to go.

  “Your brother is not my biggest fan, is he?” Della asked me after he was out of the room.

  “You have to admit that it’s a lot to take in at one time,” I said, making excuses for my brother, a habit that we’d both acquired over the years. “He’s trying really hard, though. You need to cut him some slack.”

  “You don’t seem to be having any problems with the situation,” she said to me.

  “Why, because I’m the only one who’s calling you ‘Aunt Della’ at the moment? Don’t kid yourself. I’m as thrown off by this situation as my brother is. We just have very different ways of showing it.”

  Della nodded. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You two always did stick up for each other, even as toddlers.”

  “It’s what we do,” I agreed. “I hope you don’t mind staying here while we go out investigating.”

  “Do you mean that I’m restricted to the house?” she asked, clearly unhappy with that prospect.

  “Della, someone’s trying to kill you. Don’t you think it would be prudent to keep a low profile until Pat and I have had a chance to look around first?”

  “Aunt Della,” she reminded me.

  “Maybe Pat is right. When I call you ‘aunt,’ you aren’t nearly as cooperative,” I said with a smile to ease the sting of my words.

  “What if we use my presence to flush the killer out into the open?” she asked. “That would work, wouldn’t it? I can be the bait in your trap.”

  “You’ve been watching too many detective shows on television,” I replied.

  “Is the idea really that bad?”

  “No, but we’re not going to try anything like that unless things get really desperate. I’m not about to risk your life foolishly. I know it’s not glamorous, but for the next few days, you need to stay right where you are and let my brother and me figure this out.”

  “What if whoever tried to break in this morning comes back while you’re gone?” she asked me, letting a little of the fear she must be feeling through in her voice.

  “Do you have any way of protecting yourself here?” I asked her.

  “You mean like a gun? Of course not.”

  I wasn’t all that surprised, but she had to have something she could use in self-defense, if only to make her feel more comfortable while we were gone. “How about a baseball bat?”

  “I don’t do sports,” she said diffidently.

  “Let me poke around downstairs while Pat’s getting ready and see what I can come up with
.”

  “I’ll come with you,” she said. “It’s quite a mess down there.”

  I unlocked the door, flipped the light switch on, and started down the stairs. This place was creepy in the daytime. Pat had been braver than I’d realized going down there by himself the night before in the darkness.

  I looked around at the jumble of things as Aunt Della said, “Sorry about the mess. I keep promising myself that I’ll clean this up someday, but the piles seem to get higher each year.”

  “I get it,” I said, though I’d never be able to live like that, even if my tiny cabin in the woods had a fraction of the storage my aunt’s place had. I saw a thick wooden dowel leaning against an old pedal sewing machine, and I grabbed it. It was about four feet long and at least two inches thick, and I wondered if it had been used as a closet rod at some point. “This will do.”

  “What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked unhappily.

  “I’d say swing for the fences,” I answered with a grin.

  My humor was lost on her. It was my own fault; she’d warned me that she wasn’t a sports fan, so the baseball reference was completely lost on her. “Use it to defend yourself if anyone tries to get you. Which they won’t. I promise.”

  Della took the rod from me as she cranked one eyebrow upward. “How exactly can you make a promise like that?”

  “Okay, I can’t guarantee anything. I’m just trying to make you feel better. How am I doing?”

  “Let’s go back upstairs, shall we?” she suggested, ignoring my question completely.

  I was all for getting out of there.

  Pat was waiting for us just outside the basement door when we walked out into the hallway. “There you are. I thought you two might have deserted me.”

  “We were just arming Aunt Della,” I explained.

  He looked at the heavy wooden dowel in her hands and nodded. “That should work.”

  “I’m not at all sure that I like this,” Della said.

  “We can look for something else you could use as a weapon, if you’d prefer,” I said.