Double Scoop of Murder, page 7
He shrugged. "If you're saying you weren't there, we believe you."
"Especially since you were wearing the same white capris and pink top at the high school that you had on at the dock earlier. Athena claims you were wearing black at the high school, so unless you went home and changed, not once but twice…" Jake shook his head.
But my thoughts had stopped at him knowing what I'd been wearing both times he'd seen me. Okay, I wasn't gonna lie to myself… The idea warmed me.
"Unless, of course, you had to change because you got blood on your clothes," he added.
All the warm fuzzies fled.
"But I was there with Jake when he questioned Athena and her cameraman." Marty blew on his coffee then sipped. "And as much as I hate to say it, they were convincing."
Jake raked his hands into his hair and slouched against the couch back. When he lowered his hands, he looked me in the eye. "I'm not saying I believe her story, but I do have to admit I think she believes it."
"Agreed." Marty nodded thoughtfully, sipped his coffee. "And we watched some of her videos, to get a sense of her, and she's just not all that good an actress. I don't see any way she could pull off deceiving us so completely."
"Great. So, now what?" Although it was a relief to know I wasn't a suspect, at least in the eyes of law enforcement, for now, rumors were still running rampant.
"Now we…" Jake pointed between himself and Officer Marty. "Investigate this murder. And you run your café."
Since he didn't say anything about searching (or not searching) for the treasure, I figured it best to just keep my big mouth shut. Huh. That was a first. I smiled at the thought. Then I remembered one person presumably looking for the treasure had just been killed. "By the way, do you know how Preston was killed yet?"
Jake tucked his notebook and pen away without writing anything at all. Another first. "Someone beat him with a shovel."
Everything in me went dead still, except for my stomach, which gave one long, slow roll before settling on nausea. All the pleasant heat drained from my cheeks. "There's something you need to know."
Jake froze, coffee mug halfway to his mouth. "Don't even tell me you lost a shovel."
"No, but there was a couple in earlier today. Ike and Francine. They referred to themselves as Team Adventure, and they had words with Preston Sanders at the high school before he was killed." Guilt begged me to shut up. I'd liked the elderly couple a lot. No way could those two have killed him. I hoped.
"Last names?" Marty pulled something up on his phone and began to scroll.
I shook my head. "They didn't say."
"So, what makes you think they know anything about his death?" Jake's notepad came back out while the rest of his coffee grew colder.
"Because Preston was supposedly rude to Francine, so Ike threatened, and I quote, to 'whack him with his shovel.'" What were the chances he'd have admitted that to me if he'd followed through on his threat?
"I've got them on the registration list. Ike and Francine Turner." Marty let out a low whistle then stood and planted his cap back on his head. "Seems Ike and Francine have had a run of bad luck."
"Really?" Because they'd seemed perfectly happy and content to me.
"They filed bankruptcy back about three years ago, lost their house to foreclosure, and have had no address listed since."
That was so not how they'd told that story. "They left that part out when they were telling me about the adventures they embark on while traveling around in their van, even said they have a YouTube channel."
"Falling on hard times might be reason enough to hunt for billions of dollars, but is it enough to kill for?" Jake planted a kiss on my cheek before hurrying out.
As I started cleaning up, I wasn't sure how I felt. On the one hand, I liked Ike and Francine and hoped they hadn't had anything to do with Preston's murder. On the other hand, if Ike had killed him, the case was solved and everyone else would be safe. Why did I have such a difficult time believing things could be resolved that easily? Oh, right. Because karma was my constant companion.
CHAPTER NINE
By the following morning, I hadn't heard from Jake or Officer Marty since they'd run out the night before, presumably to interrogate Ike and Francine, but I was sure they'd stop in for coffee at some point. Probably after I'd closed and turned off the coffee makers. Oh, well. I was glad they felt comfortable enough to come in after hours. The point of the cozy café had been to make people feel at home.
I flipped on the TV in the corner of the café kitchen and let the news play in the background while I collected what I'd need to make banana ice cream. Thankfully, Uncle Jimmie had made the leap a few years ago and replaced the old ice and rock salt, crank for forty minutes method with a new commercial ice cream maker, because I definitely wouldn't have the money to invest in the machine now. And my forearms were already bulking up just from scooping all day, despite switching hands (whenever I remembered, at least). The last thing I needed was to have to turn a crank for close to an hour for each batch of ice cream.
While Uncle Jimmie had invested in the machine, he didn't believe in using the pre-mixed milk blend for a base. Not that I disagreed. It might be easier, but I preferred the homemade-from-scratch version. I measured out and poured milk, heavy cream, evaporated milk, and sugar into a large stainless-steel bowl, then blended it together. When it was just the right consistency, I poured it into the machine and turned it on. Making ice cream in the early mornings had come to be a routine I enjoyed, especially if I kept up with it and never needed too much at a time. Leaving the machine to do its thing, I checked behind the front counter for whatever bananas had gone too ripe to use for sundaes.
When my cell phone rang, I grabbed the bananas, hurried to the kitchen, and answered it without bothering to look at the caller ID. "Hello?"
"I hope you're happy." The woman's voice on the other end of the line sounded anything but.
I lowered the phone from my ear to check for a name, but the screen simply said unknown. Huh, I hope you're happy seemed like a weird opening statement for a telemarketer, but who knew? Maybe it was some sort of new scam. But at five o'clock in the morning? I opened my mouth to say, actually, I'm very happy, thank you very much, and then hang up, but curiosity won out. "Who is this?"
"It's Francine Turner, and thanks to you, the police were out here asking Ike and me a bunch of questions last night. I don't care about answering anything they want to know, but Ike…well, he's a proud man, and having them throw the fact that we lost everything in his face was more than he could handle."
The bananas slid from my hands and hit the floor with a splat. "Is he okay? Where are you? I'm so sorry, Francine. I didn't know."
"Yeah, well, a lot of good that does me."
Ah, man. My guilt-o-meter shot through the stratosphere. "What can I do for you, Francine? Please, tell me how I can help."
She sucked in a shaky breath but said nothing.
For a minute, I thought she'd hung up. "Francine?"
"I can't find him," she sobbed softly. "I don't know where he went."
"Okay. Okay. Listen." I had to think. Why would he have taken off? Or had he? Maybe someone was offing the other treasure hunters to up their odds of winning. The thought left a cold, hard lump in my gut. "When did you see him last?"
She sniffled, and I wished desperately I could reach through the phone and comfort her.
"Please, Francine. Talk to me. If I can't help you, I know the detective in charge of the case, and I can get him to help us find Ike." I held my breath, praying she'd agree to let me help.
The back door opened, and Eli bopped in. "Hey. You said we should meet you here this morning, so—"
I held up a hand to cut him off and pointed to the phone.
"Oh, right, sorry," he whispered then slid his fingers across his mouth like a zipper, turned them, and tossed an imaginary key over his shoulder. With that, since he was looking at me, interest at who I might be on the phone with at five in the morning dancing in his eyes, he didn't notice the bananas on the floor. When his foot hit the mess, it went right out from under him and dropped him flat on his duff.
"Oh, my gosh. Are you okay?" I hurried to help him up.
He shot me a sheepish grin.
"Honestly, I don't know," Francine answered.
I'd forgotten she was still hanging on the line. Why was all of this happening? Was it because I'd fleetingly commented in my own head on the fact that I was happy? It had to be. The universe and karma were obviously conspiring against me. "Look, Francine, I can only help you if you talk to me. Tell me what's going on. I find it hard to believe you just called me at five in the morning to chew me out. I think you need help, and I'm willing to give it, if you talk to me."
The instant the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. The last thing this woman needed was me pushing her.
"You're right." Sniff. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do. My kids are scattered all over the country, and I don't want to call and tell them their father is missing, but I don't know anyone else in town, and I don't know what to do."
"Okay. All right. Just let me think for a minute." Clearly she needed help, but what could I do for her when I had to open the café? Unless… "Can you come to the café?"
"Um…yes. I guess I could do that."
"Okay. Please head here now, and I'll work out a way to help you find him. Good?"
"Yes. Oh, my. I don't know how to thank you. I'll be right over." The line disconnected.
"Eli, are you all right?"
He paused from where he was cleaning smashed banana off the bottom of his shoe. "I'm fine. Sorry. I should have looked where I was going."
"No, please. I'm the one who's sorry. I never should have left that on the floor, but Francine Turner called, and she can't find Ike." I grabbed a dustpan and brush and started cleaning up the banana.
Eli frowned. "Isn't that the elderly couple who came in yesterday?"
"Yes."
He started to return to cleaning his shoe then stopped as his gaze shot to me. "Ike's missing?"
"Yeah." No way was I running through everything then having to repeat it all when Meghan and Gwen arrived, which should be any moment. "Just give me a minute to clean this up and make a call. Then I'll explain everything."
He tossed the wad of banana-covered paper towels into the garbage pail. "Gwen and Meghan are still meeting up here to go over the clues, right?"
"Right." I guessed. Actually, I had no idea. I didn't know which way to turn. There was too much happening. When in doubt… Huh. My usual line was when in doubt, procrastinate, but it didn't seem that would work under the circumstances. Unfortunately, I had multiple things to do, all of which seemed urgent, if not equally important. "Could you please grab some more bananas from the case out front, mash them, and add them and the vanilla extract to the machine for me?"
"Sure thing." He bounced through the doorway. Thankfully, one of the first things Eli had learned, since he seemed to be a natural and needed no instruction when it came to customer service, was how to make the ice cream. And it was his favorite task.
While he attended to that, I picked up the phone, stepped into the back foyer, and dialed Uncle Jimmie.
He answered on the first ring. "Dani? Is anything wrong?"
"No." My heart sank. I should have realized a phone call from me at that hour would scare him. "I'm sorry to bother you so early, Uncle Jimmie, but I have a bit of a situation."
"What do you need?"
My stomach finally settled. It turned out I knew exactly what to do, after all. Delegate. Who'd have thought? "Would you mind coming in and opening the café this morning?"
Silence.
Uh-oh. Maybe I'd over-anticipated his willingness to lend a hand. "Uncle Jimmie?"
"That depends. Are you going to search for a clue?" A scratching sound came over the line, and I could see him rubbing his stubble in thought.
"No. Well, I don't know. Maybe later." Because when I'd called my team and asked them to meet up with me this morning, we'd discussed trying to find the punt we suspected was referenced in the first clue. "Sorry, my mind is all over the place. For right now, one of my customers is missing. An elderly gentleman who was in yesterday. He and his wife are part of the treasure hunt, and they're from out of town. He seems to have disappeared. She can't find him anywhere, and she's worried sick."
"I'm on my way."
Tears threatened as I hung up, not because I was upset or overwhelmed, but because it felt so good to be back in a community where family and friends would drop everything to come running in a heartbeat at the first sign of trouble. Once I collected myself, along with a tub of neapolitan ice cream from the basement freezer, I walked back into the kitchen and found Gwen and Meghan already there. They must have come in the front door. "Is Francine here yet?"
"No." Gwen swiped a couple slices of banana and a handful of chocolate chips off the cutting board Eli had set out. "Eli said her husband's missing?"
"Yeah." I set the ice cream down on the ancient counter I should probably replace one of these days and sipped the coffee someone had poured for me.
"Why not call the police?" Meghan asked.
"I might. But first I want to talk to her and find out exactly what happened." I ran through a quick explanation of the bankruptcy and foreclosure and the fact that Jake and Officer Marty had gone to talk to them. "Hey, Eli, If you want to finish the banana ice cream, only half with chocolate chips, though, I'll do the waffle sandwiches."
"Sounds like a plan," Eli agreed.
Gwen grabbed a box of frozen waffles from the freezer, and she and Meghan dropped them into the five toasters lining the counter. "How are you going to leave to go look for him?"
"Uncle Jimmie's coming in to open the café and stay until we figure out what's happening." I cut open the cardboard container and started slicing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry circles.
"If we find Ike and everything's okay, you think he'd stay long enough for us to follow up on that clue?"
"He might…" Uncle Jimmie walked into the kitchen and winked at me.
Harry strolled in right behind him. "If you're willing to share whatever information you find out."
"Absolutely." Then my gaze shot to the others. Since I'd never played sports in school, the idea of a team was obviously lost on me. "Oops. Sorry, guys."
"No problem." Eli scraped the bananas into the machine. He looked to Gwen and Meghan for confirmation. "If Jimmie and Harry didn't open, we wouldn't be able to go hunt anything down, so it seems like a fair trade."
Someone knocked on the front door. "Okay, so that's the plan. We find Ike, and then we hunt down the punt."
Nods of agreement all around had me breathing a sigh of relief. Maybe things would turn out okay after all. I left Gwen and Meghan sandwiching sliced ice cream between waffles and wrapping them for later, Eli adding chocolate chips and marshmallow to the banana ice cream, and hurried out to let Francine in.
Except, when I reached the front door, it wasn't Francine staring back at me, but Storm, Wyatt, and Kirk. I checked the clock, unlocked the door, and cracked it open. "I'm sorry, but we're not open yet."
"That's okay." Storm shoved his blond hair back, but the sweep dropped right back across his eyes again. He didn't seem to notice. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you remember at the football field Friday night, when we were filming, and I said Kirk should continue filming everything, but then we'd delete the footage afterward if the police didn't need it?"
"Um. Yeah, I guess." The past couple of days were kind of a jumbled mess, but I did remember him saying something like that and that Athena had just kept live streaming. "Why?"
"Because the police came by to question us last night, which is fine. We don't mind answering questions, and I'm sure they're talking to everyone who was there, but I asked Kirk to hand over the footage to the police, and the memory card is gone."
"What do you mean, gone?"
He shrugged. "That's just it. It was in the camera when he was filming, and then when he went to take the card out to give to the police, it was no longer in the camera."
I opened the door farther and ushered them inside. No sense everyone standing out on the sidewalk when we were going to open in a little while anyway. Besides, all it would take was one fan recognizing Storm and his crew to have the whole place mobbed, and I couldn't leave Uncle Jimmie and Harry to deal with that on their own, which meant I wouldn't be able to help Francine find Ike.
Storm took two steps into the dining room then stopped short and inhaled deeply. "Is that waffles I smell?"
"Oh, yeah, we're making ice cream sandwiches."
"Seriously?"
"Do you want a plate of waffles?" I'd never thought of offering waffles for breakfast. We always had them on hand for the ice cream sandwiches, so I supposed I could add them to the menu. Or maybe I could make homemade waffles for the sandwiches and add them to the menu. That was definitely an idea worth exploring.
"No thanks, but I sure wouldn't mind one of those ice cream sandwiches. Are they the ones with the vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream in them?"
"Yes." I led them to a small table and offered them a seat. "But I could do whatever flavor you'd like."
"You don't have banana chocolate chip, do you?" Wyatt looked so hopeful, I couldn't help but smile.
"I do, actually." And that didn't sound half bad either. Actually, it sounded really good, and I was going to ask Gwen and Meghan to make some up as soon as Eli was done with the ice cream. If these guys hung around a little longer, I might have a whole new menu to offer. But they hadn't come in to boost my breakfast business. "Is it possible you forgot to put a card in the camera?"
Kirk shot me a disbelieving look.
But it was Storm who answered. "No. I've been a YouTuber for a long time, and Kirk's been my cameraman from day one. No way would he forget to put a memory card in. And, he swapped the one that was already in there for a new one when we realized what was going on and knew we might have to turn over the footage to the police. We didn't want to lose what we'd already filmed that day."
