Nuttier Than Pecan Pie Page 8

  Eve shook her head. “I’ve been politely warned off by Captain Lumos.”

  “I like the sounds of that,” Mabe said, her voice suddenly turning stern. “This murder isn’t just some silly Caravan Manor mystery game. People are getting themselves killed. These are dangerous times. It’s best to just walk away and leave the investigations to the police.”

  Eve grunted. “Bodysnatcher! Who are you and what did you do with my Mabe?”

  “Well, I guess I’m just getting a little more cautious in my old age. It’s not like this is just about gossip and pranks or paying back some uppity tourist. Seems to me, I need to keep you out of trouble these days, honey.”

  “Trouble,” Eve insisted as her cell phone beeped, “seems to keep finding me. I gotta go. Someone’s calling on the other line.”

  She glanced at the name on the phone’s readout, then clicked the button to accept the other call. “Speak of the devil. Hey, there, Trubble.”

  “Hello, darlin’.” Lawrence said. “I just called to see how you’re doing. I heard what happened yesterday.”

  “Yeah, poor Gwen.”

  “What are the cops saying?”

  “You mean, besides back off and stay out of it? You know Cody—Captain Bossypants.”

  “Well,” Lawrence said, and she could almost hear him leaning forward, as he did sometimes when he was moving to a more intense topic of conversation. “You could use your connection…”

  “You mean your daughter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have no scruples.”

  “She’d do the same.”

  “I guess so – there’s got to be some perks to sleeping with the police captain.”

  “Eve. Could you not put it that way?”

  She cleared her throat. “Right... sorry, honey. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Super. By the way, I need the story in two days.”

  “Two days?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

  Lawrence must have noticed her concern. “If it helps, I’ll give you an extra day for your gossip column.”

  Eve blew out a breath. It sounded like a lot of work, but something in her didn’t want to let Lawrence down. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Great. Oh, there’s one other thing. There was a message on the voicemail for you this morning, reminding you about a meeting at the town hall.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. That was the weird part. No name. It was a woman’s voice. She said she’d emailed you the details or something.”

  Eve looked down at her laptop’s screen. She used the touchpad to move the cursor to her e‑mail account’s icon. “Alright. It must have gone into my spam folder. I’ll check it out.” She waited a few moments while the program launched, then checked her new e‑mails. She got momentarily sidetracked by a Bass Pro Flyer. They were having a sale on an LTO-Tracker Thermal Imaging Viewer. Yes, please. She was definitely gonna have to make time to order one of those. Who didn’t need night vision optics? Plus, she’d busted Mabe’s last time she was spying on Penny. Mabe would surely notice come hunting season.

  “Eve, you still there?”

  “Yep. Sorry. Just got distracted with some online shopping?”

  “Was it the Bass Fishing Pro email.”

  “Yes! How did you know? Are you spying on me?”

  Lawrence laughed. “No. It’s the only time you’re ever quiet.”

  Eve was about to act offended but then laughed along. “Well, I guess I can’t disagree with that sort of logic.”

  “Well, that’s a first but I’ll take it. Are you going to the Lumberjack competition tomorrow?”

  “Of course, I am. It’s like you don’t even know me?”

  Ren chuckled. “Good. I was hoping one of us would be there.”

  “You’re really gonna send me to a lumberjack contest with no supervision? That’s some trust right there.”

  “You are the most trust worthy woman I know.”

  “Smooth. So, what are you doing?”

  “Sticky wants me to take him ice fishing. But we’ll see.”

  “Oh, don’t forget that new fishing line I bought you. It’s in the kitchen drawer.”

  “I won’t. I miss you. Sticky’s really keeping me busy. Every time I mention doing something with you, he brings up plans. I’m beginning to feel married again.”

  “Yeesh,” Eve said, her mind already working ahead, “well, just keep a grip on the soap then, honey.”

  Ren chuckled. “You are a handful.”

  “I try. When does he leave?” she asked, scrolling through the online flyer some more.

  “He’s here for the rest of this coming week. We’re supposed to have dinner together tomorrow night. Want to come along?”

  Eve thought about that. “I don’t know. I’m not very good at being the other woman. Anyway, my editor’s a real horse’s ass. He told me he needs a story ASAP. I mean, the nerve of some people.”

  Lawrence laughed. “Yeah, he sounds like a real killjoy. Let me know, okay?”

  “I will.” She hit the end button, exited the online flyer and opened her most recent email. She didn’t recognize the sender.

  It was short and to the point: Meet me at the town hall this afternoon at 4pm if you want to know who stole the recipe. Backdoor. Come alone. It was signed Raisin Questions.

  Of course, Eve had a key, but she wondered how this person planned to get in. Why the anonymous e‑mail? And why the secretive meeting at a public yet relatively inaccessible place? Why not meet in a coffee shop or at the Bohemian Lake Sugar & Ice Festival somewhere? Nothing seemed dangerous when there was taffy involved.

  For a fleeting moment she thought about skipping the meeting. Why put herself in harm’s way? For all she knew, Raisin Questions was luring her there to murder her too—just like Gwen.

  And yet, her instincts told her the opposite. Of course… her instincts were damn liars. They’d told her marriage was a good idea. Every. Single. Time.

  Eve checked her watch. It was a quarter to three.

  Oh, well. What’s one more Yes?

  FIFTEEN

  B ella Trumpet—one of the Mabel sisters opened her front door, looking smart in a turtleneck, cigarette pants and her red frames.

  “Is Mabe around?” Eve asked.

  Bella motioned her inside, closing the door behind her. “Come on back,” she said, waving a hand. She was carrying a book in it—she was always carrying a book. “We’re just having a snack. Want something? A tea? A beer? Bloody Mary?”

  “Don’t you need a mirror and some candles for that?” Eve asked, tongue in cheek. Bella looked confused, clearly, she’d never been dared as a child to resurrect the vengeful ghost. “No thanks, I can’t stay long,” Eve followed her back to the cozy little kitchen with its linoleum floor and a ruffled gingham curtain where Bella’s sister Mabe sat slurping back Manhattan clam chowder.

  “Take off your coat and have a seat,” Bella said, directing Eve to one of the four vintage styled chairs positioned around the table. Eve handed Bella her coat and she carried it into the next room while still talking. “Lena’s out shopping. She wanted Mabe and I to go with her, but no thank you! She buys enough for the three of us, anyway.”

  What were the chances she’d buy something from this decade? Eve thought to herself. Stepping inside the Mabels house was like stepping into a time capsule—or an episode of Mad Men. The place went from jet-age to funkadelic depending on the room.

  Eve could already tell that Lena wasn’t home because if she had been then the lights would have been low, the perfume would have been thick, and the record player would have been belting out Miles Davis at a deep, and vibrating volume.

  Mabe nodded and took another spoonful of her soup. She was only a little taller than her sister, and broad, though she didn’t seem overweight. Her stomach was still tight, and her toned legs indicated she kept herself active. Her salt‑and‑pepper hair was neatly trim
med into a bob. She looked at Eve with studious green eyes. “So, you need my help with something?”

  “Yeah, you could say that. I... have this meeting in a little while, and I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

  She sat back in her chair and watched Bella disappear around the corner. She was probably planning to eavesdrop from the other room. “What kind of meeting?”

  “Well, I suppose you could say it’s with some sort of informant.”

  “I see.” Absently she dipped a bun into her soup and took a bite, followed by a pull from a can of beer, as she thought this over. “So, what’s the name of the rat?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Uh‑huh. And how did this informant contact you?”

  “E‑mail.”

  “No way to identify the sender?”

  “It was a Gmail account. Someone named Raisin Questions.”

  “Raisin Questions, huh? Interesting. Let me call L’il Mickey, he’ll have a name and address in under five minutes.”

  Eve shook her head, “No time. I’m supposed to be there at 4pm. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first – to find out what I’m walking into.”

  “Why, are you worried?”

  She had to admit she was.

  “Think it’s a scam?”

  “I don’t know. I just know someone who insists on staying anonymous wants to meet me alone.”

  She seemed to understand. “So, you need a little backup.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I was thinking about something like that, yes.”

  She took a contemplative sip of soup. “Okay, at least we know the ground rules. But nothing says we can’t bend them a little.” Her eyes suddenly widened as she held up a thick finger. “You know what? I have just the thing.”

  She set down her spoon, got up from the table, and crossed to a drawer at the far end of the solid laminate yellow kitchen counter. Gag. She pulled it open and started digging through it, burrowing under batteries, nails, user guides, pens and pencils, and other assorted items. She finally found what she was looking for near the back, pulled it out, slammed the drawer closed with her hip, and returned to the table.

  “Here you go,” she said, holding it up for Eve to see.

  It was some sort of ear piece.

  “What’s that?” Eve asked, peering at the black wire.

  Mabe displayed it proudly. “It’s an audio bug and receiver. The range is limited but it should do the trick.” She leaned forward and attached the bug to the collar of Eve’s blouse. She slipped the black box in her left front pocket.

  She held up the earpiece connected to the black box with the antenna. “I’ll be outside in the truck. Then I just pop this earpiece in, and I can hear everything you say. If you get into trouble, just holler. I’ll be there faster than a sneeze through a screen door.”

  Eve eyed the device skeptically. “What if she locks the door after I come in?”

  Mabe grinned. “It’s got a new security keypad on it.”

  Eve smiled with her. “And you know the combination to the keypad, don’t you?”

  She raised her arms in an exaggerated shrug. “Sure do. I got the code from our little hacker buddy. What can I say? I’m good at what I do.” Her expression turned serious again as she set the gear on the table and sat back down. “Listen, Eve, this doesn’t have anything to do with Gwen’s death, does it?”

  Eve had anticipated the question and had formulated her answer on the drive over. “It might.”

  Mabe leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. “I heard some talk last night at canasta. They’re saying Gwen had serious trauma to the head. She probably had a few other broken bones too, and maybe a broken neck. Someone beat her up pretty good.”

  “Do they have any suspects?”

  Mabe shrugged. “Who knows what the fuzz is up to? But my point is this: you’re walking into very murky territory here.”

  “Yeah. Why do you think I’m bringing you?”

  SIXTEEN

  T hirty minutes later, Eve walked toward the red-brick town hall. Neo-Classical in style, according to Juniper. It was a two-story structure with columns and cornice that wrapped around the whole building. Mabe had dropped her off so they weren’t arriving together. Then she waited until she saw Mabe’s rusted brown truck round the corner before she headed for the back door. This was not their first rodeo. The building had been there forever, and it had multiple uses, including the main-floor town offices and land registry, upper-floor theatre that doubled as a courtroom and a basement jail. Hopefully, no one was planning on locking her up in one of those cells.

  By the time she got around back, she saw Mabe was crouched down in the backseat, hidden from view. She absently felt for her purse and stroked it gently. She’d made sure to pack her arsenal. Then she touched the black button mic attached to a bra strap and, with the other hand, tapped the transmitter tucked into her back pocket. The wire snaked around her body inside her blouse. She just hoped the little spy gadget worked the way Mabe said it would.

  She reached out and tentatively turned the door handle. It was unlocked. She pushed open the door, peered inside, and couldn’t help giving a last look back over her shoulder, just to make sure Mabe was still there.

  She just hoped she wouldn’t need her help at all.

  Taking a deep breath, she walked inside, letting the door close behind her. She entered a darkened hallway, illuminated by dim off‑hours lighting. Still, she could see the way ahead clearly enough. The long hallway was deserted.

  Before she took a step forward, she instinctively pulled a flashlight out of her trusty yellow shoulder bag and held it low, though she didn’t flick it on yet, and started forward, walking as quietly as possible. She wore rubber-soled boots, and at times they squeaked on the tiled floor. But they were better than the tapping that her high heeled boots would have caused. Cautiously, and a bit awkwardly, she crept forward and soon turned right down a dimly lit corridor that she knew led to the stairwell to the upper floor. That’s where she was headed.

  She moved more quickly now, not wanting to linger any longer than she had to, passing by the closed doors of a number of offices, many of them leased by the town. Near the end of the hall, on the left, was the town council’s office, reserved for the use of the mayor. The office had once been held by Frank Patone, a local dirtbag Eve had hated. He was gone now—good riddance. Still, the office gave her the creeps, so she hurried past the closed door without stopping.

  As she reached the end of the hall, she turned left and pushed through another door to a dark staircase. The stairwell, like the hallways, was empty.

  At the top of the stairs she turned left, pushing through another set of doors, and entered a long hallway with faded red carpeting that ran along the entire right side of the auditorium. It sloped gently downward to her right and eventually led through another door to the backstage area. Eve briefly considered heading along the hall in that direction but decided against it. Instead, she stepped straight across the hall and pulled open another door, which led into the auditorium itself.

  A few lights had been left on high in the ceiling and under the balcony, which loomed above her on her left. The stage was down to her right. The main house curtain, she noticed, was open.

  As she walked, she listened, but she could hear nothing except her own soft footsteps and her own breathing. Even the traffic outside on Main Street was almost inaudible in here. Eve slowed, her gaze moving back and forth, as she approached the stage. She hesitated only briefly before climbing the steps.

  Slowly she crossed toward center stage, feeling strangely vulnerable. Hearing an errant creak from the auditorium, she turned on her heels and looked out over the sea of seats, then up toward the balcony, then back to the wings on either side of her, where she saw nothing but shadows among the side curtains.

  She turned to face the rear of the stage, where a long, closed curtain hid the backstage area from her view. She took a few tenta
tive steps toward the rear curtain, still looking back and forth, her eyes watching for any sign of movement.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” she called softly. She paused and listened for a reply but heard nothing.

  “Hello? Raisin Questions?”

  As she reached the rear curtain, she turned to look into the shadows in the right and left wings.

  Did something move there?

  She saw it then, to her left – a flickering light, briefly, as if signaling to her.

  “Hello?” she called a third time, though now her voice was more of a whisper. She took a few steps in that direction.

  A light flashed in her eyes. She stopped abruptly.

  Just as quickly as it had come, the light disappeared. A low, indistinct voice spoke from the shadows. “Over here.”

  The voice was definitely familiar, but was it Bianca or Sharlene? She couldn’t tell yet.

  She reached the wing and peered deeper into the shadows, but she could see nothing. “Where are you?”

  “Back here.”

  The voice, low and muffled, had come from her right. She thought of flicking on the flashlight she still held but hesitated. She didn’t want to spook Raisin Questions, so for the moment she left it off. But she tightened her grip on it, her thumb resting on the switch, ready to flick it on at the first sign of trouble.

  But she didn’t need it. The other light flicked on at that moment, shining at her feet. “This way,” the voice said, drawing her on.

  She could make out the shape of the person now, standing about twelve feet in front of her, though she could see no distinct features. The tall, thick stage curtains on either side of them muffled most sounds, but she thought she could hear the other person breathing.

  As she approached, the flashlight’s beam swung away and then flicked off. The two of them stood silently for a moment, facing each other in semidarkness.

  Eve squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She cleared her throat. “Okay, so here I am. What did you want to tell me?”