Through the Liquor Glass, page 13
“You should have,” my mom agreed. “Why didn’t you?”
“I want so desperately for you to like and accept Grayson. I really love him, Mom, and I don’t want this whole situation to color your view of him. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“He really is a good man,” Aunt Gilda said in support. “I can promise you that.”
“And he and Sadie are great together,” Shontelle added.
“Until I can meet the man myself, I’ll take your word for it,” my mom said.
“You will?” I asked with surprise. It wasn’t always easy to get my mom on my side.
“All three of you vouch for Grayson, and I have no reason to doubt your judgment.”
“Not even mine?” I asked. I often thought she doubted my judgment.
“Of course not,” my mom said. “Why would you think otherwise?”
I could have brought up the fact that she hadn’t—in the past, at least—approved of my decision to buy a pub and live in Shady Creek. However, I didn’t see any point in rippling the waters, which were far smoother than I’d expected.
“Thanks,” I said instead before taking a bite of my lunch.
“Is Grayson all right?” my mom asked. “Have you spoken to him since he went on the run?”
“I don’t know how to get in touch with him,” I said with what was now becoming a familiar ache in my heart. “He doesn’t want me getting in trouble with the police, so he didn’t even tell me he was going into hiding.”
My mom gave a nod of approval as she cut into her gnocchi. “He was right not to tell you.” She surprised me yet again by adding, “You must miss him terribly.”
“More than I can put into words,” I said.
My mom reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze. “Everything will turn out all right in the end, Sadie.”
“I hope you’re right.”
With my secret now out in the open, I was able to relax and enjoy the meal, although for every single second, I keenly felt Grayson’s absence.
* * *
After finishing our lunch at the Harvest Grill, I wandered back to the Treasure Chest with Shontelle. My mom and Aunt Gilda were going to visit the Caldwell Cheese Company before heading over to my place, where I would cook them dinner. In the meantime, I needed another chat with my best friend.
“That went better than I expected,” Shontelle said. “I really like your mom. You had me worried that she’d completely freak out if she found out about Grayson’s troubles.”
“I thought she would freak out,” I admitted. “She totally surprised me there.” Much to my relief.
“After meeting her, I’m sure she’s going to love Grayson.”
“I just need to make sure she gets that chance,” I said.
“She will. With you and Grayson on the case along with the police, the real killer will be caught soon.”
“You’re right,” I said, deciding to be optimistic. “Between all of us, someone is bound to solve the mystery.”
“Do you want to come upstairs for a cup of coffee?” Shontelle asked as she unlocked the front door to the shop.
“That would be great, thanks,” I said.
Shontelle led the way through to the back of the shop, where a staircase provided access to her apartment. Once upstairs, we found nine-year-old Kiandra at the kitchen table, brushing orange glaze onto pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. Shontelle’s mom, Yvette, was in the process of sliding another sheet of cookies into the oven.
“Wow!” I exclaimed. “You two have been busy. Those cookies look great.”
“We’re making them for a bake sale at the elementary school,” Yvette said.
“But we’re keeping some too,” Kiandra said with a smile. She picked up a cookie and bit into it as if to emphasize her words.
“Remember to save some for the sale,” Shontelle said, ruffling her daughter’s cloud of curly hair.
A phone rang somewhere in the apartment.
“That sounds like mine,” Yvette said. “Excuse me.”
She disappeared into the living room as Shontelle set about making a pot of coffee.
“Sadie, is it scary living next door to a haunted house?” Kiandra asked as she glazed another cookie.
“A haunted house?” I echoed, puzzled. “You mean the brewery?”
I wondered if she’d heard about someone dying there and had equated that with the place being haunted.
She shook her head. “On the other side of the mill.”
“The vacant house?” Shontelle asked.
This time Kiandra nodded, her eyes wide and solemn. “Except it’s not really vacant. There’s a ghost living there.”
“Oh, honey, there’s no such thing as ghosts,” Shontelle said. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“No, it’s for real,” Kiandra insisted. “My friend Cherry’s older sister Leanne has a boyfriend named Chad. He was there one night with another boy. They sneaked inside the house and heard footsteps in the attic. The next night, they took Leanne and another girl there to look for the ghost, but Leanne got too scared and they ran away before they saw anything.” Kiandra froze. “Oops. That was meant to be a secret. Leanne wasn’t supposed to be out that late.”
“Well, I don’t know Leanne or her sister, so their parents won’t hear about it from me,” I said.
“And I’ll pretend I didn’t hear,” Shontelle added as she took three mugs down from a cupboard.
“Phew,” Kiandra said with relief.
Dots connected in my head as I recalled the teenagers who’d run across the green after one of them had screamed. “Was it last night that Leanne was at the house?”
Kiandra nodded. “Cherry told me about it this morning.”
So the boys heard the footsteps two nights ago.
“I don’t think I have any reason to worry,” I said. “I doubt there was actually a ghost there.” In fact, I suspected the footsteps were made by someone altogether human.
“But it could be a ghost,” Kiandra said before taking another bite of the cookie she’d started eating earlier. “You should wear a necklace made of garlic.”
“I think that’s for warding off vampires,” Shontelle said.
Kiandra shrugged as her grandmother returned to the room.
“Did I hear you talking about ghosts and vampires?” Yvette asked. “You’d think Halloween was coming or something,”
Kiandra laughed. “It is and I can’t wait!”
Shontelle groaned. “I can. I’m not looking forward to the sugar high.”
“I can have a sugar high right now,” Kiandra said, biting into another cookie. “We all can.”
“The cookies do look tempting,” Shontelle admitted.
I had to agree.
Even though Shontelle and I had just finished a filling lunch, we both indulged in a cookie with our coffee. After Kiandra finished glazing the last batch of cookies, she showed me the pirate princess costume her grandma was making for her for Halloween.
After that, I didn’t stay much longer. I needed to get some groceries and clean my apartment before my mom and Aunt Gilda showed up for dinner. Shontelle walked me out through her shop and locked up behind me. Once I was alone on the sidewalk, I paused to gaze across the village green at the vacant house next to the gristmill. It was a struggle to keep myself from running straight over there. If Grayson really was hiding out there, as I suspected, the last thing I wanted to do was to alert the police to that fact. Maybe they weren’t watching me now, but I didn’t know that for sure. I’d have to wait until I could sneak over there under the cover of darkness, and nightfall was still hours away.
With great reluctance, I turned away and walked to the grocery store, counting down the hours until I could go in search of Grayson.
Chapter 19
When I reached the grocery store, I realized I had no idea what to make for dinner. Maybe I should have come up with a plan when I’d invited my mom and aunt over for a meal, but I’d had so much going on in my life and inside my head lately that I hadn’t found the time. It didn’t really matter in the end. As I pushed my cart around the grocery store, I came up with a plan on the go. I’d cook some salmon fillets and serve them with asparagus and little potatoes. My mouth watered at the thought. I loved little potatoes smothered with butter.
I filled my cart with all the ingredients I needed for dinner as well as some other items that I was running low on. I needed some chocolate chips, which I loved to melt on my oatmeal, so I turned down the baking aisle. A woman stood at the other end of the aisle, examining the different types of liquid extracts on offer. She glanced my way when I brought my cart to a halt next to the chocolate chips. As soon as she was facing me, I realized she was Miranda Keeler, George Keeler’s wife. She recognized me at the same moment. Her eyes widened and she dropped the bottle of extract she had in her hand into her shopping basket. Then she fled from the aisle like she’d seen a terrifying ghost.
I stood staring at the spot where she’d been a moment before, trying to process what had happened. Was Miranda Keeler scared of me?
I glanced over my shoulder. I was the only person in sight, so it must have been my presence that sent her running.
Leaving my cart where it was, I hurried to the end of the aisle and peeked around the corner. Miranda was at the express checkout, hastily emptying her basket onto the counter. When she turned her head my way, I ducked out of sight.
Why would Miranda Keeler be frightened of me?
I pondered the question as I returned to my cart. The only answer I could come up with was that she knew I was looking into Dominique’s death and that was what had her scared. She’d heard me ask George if he had an alibi for the time of the murder. Even if she hadn’t overheard that part of the conversation, she could still know about my reputation for sticking my nose into murder investigations. She was probably afraid I’d corner her and interrogate her. Maybe I would have, although I liked to think my questioning would have been subtle enough not to be labeled an interrogation.
I stared at the goods lining the shelves without really seeing them, my thoughts still on Miranda. If she was worried about me investigating the crime, then surely that meant she had something to hide, something she didn’t want me finding out.
She definitely needed to stay on my suspect list. I still didn’t know if she’d had a stake in her husband’s restaurant. Even if it had been his venture alone, the loss of the business likely would have affected them both, and she certainly hadn’t liked seeing Dominique in Shady Creek.
Maybe she and George killed Dominique together.
I quickly discounted that idea. Only one person had followed Dominique into the brewery building. That didn’t mean the husband and wife hadn’t planned the murder together, but only one had carried it out.
I definitely needed to investigate the Keelers further, I decided.
If I got home and cleaned my apartment quickly, maybe I’d have a chance to do some sleuthing before I needed to start preparing dinner.
I grabbed a package of chocolate chips and plunked it into my grocery cart. At the other end of the aisle, I added a box of Earl Grey tea bags to my groceries. It was my mom’s favorite tea, and I didn’t have any at home. I really hoped she liked my apartment. She hadn’t said much when I’d given her the brief tour, but after our talk at lunch, I felt more optimistic about her opinions. She’d surprised me by being much calmer and more accepting about Grayson’s situation than I’d ever anticipated.
Another ache shot through my heart at the thought of Grayson. I didn’t think that would stop happening until we were back together with his name cleared of any suspicion.
I headed for the checkout counter, noting that Miranda was no longer around. I joined the shortest line aside from the express checkout and parked my cart while the one woman in front of me unloaded her groceries onto the counter.
“Maybe we need to spread the word more about the local food bank,” the cashier was saying. She appeared to be in her late forties, and the tag pinned to her shirt revealed that her name was Gloria. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen someone taking food from the store’s dumpster out back, but this woman was dressed in expensive clothing.”
“Anyone can fall on hard times,” the woman in front of me said. “And isn’t it true that lots of perfectly good food ends up in the dumpsters of grocery stores?”
“That is true, unfortunately,” Gloria agreed as she scanned groceries.
“Did you recognize the woman?” the shopper in front of me asked. “Maybe there’s a way we could tactfully let her know about the food bank, in case she’s new to town and doesn’t know it exists. Or maybe it’s not a financial issue. Aren’t there people who dumpster dive simply because they don’t want good food going to waste?”
“I’ve heard of that,” Gloria said as she scanned the last item. “But I didn’t recognize her, so she could be new to the area. I’d say she was in her late twenties. She had gorgeous long, auburn hair.”
“That doesn’t ring a bell.” The woman in front of me pulled out her credit card.
I started unloading my grocery cart as she paid for her purchases. Even though I’d heard the conversation going on in front of me, my mind was still mostly focused on Miranda and my other suspects. As soon as I’d paid for my groceries, I picked up my two bags and headed for home. I couldn’t help checking the windows of the abandoned house as I approached the gristmill, but I tried to be discreet about it. I didn’t see any signs of life, though that didn’t surprise me. The way the light was reflecting off the glass, it was hard to see much of anything, and Grayson knew better than to stand by the windows when he was trying to stay hidden.
Before crossing the footbridge, I cast a quick glance toward the brewery’s driveway. Sure enough, a car was parked there, mostly hidden by the trees and bushes. The sight of the vehicle only added to my determination to get the case solved quickly. Even if I hadn’t planned to sneak around that night, I wouldn’t have liked being under police surveillance. It made me uncomfortable, overly aware of every move I made.
I was able to relax once inside my apartment, thankfully. I put the groceries away, groomed Wimsey—much to his displeasure—and then got to work cleaning. By the time I had every surface sparkling, I needed to start preparing the food. My fingers itched to get hold of my laptop, but I didn’t have a chance to do some online sleuthing before dinner, because my mom and Aunt Gilda arrived shortly after I got the food out of the fridge.
I did my best to push all thoughts of the murder to the back of my mind so I could enjoy the time with my family. My mom and Gilda both loved the meal I cooked, which made me happy. I wasn’t the most skilled cook in the world, so I was glad I was able to put together something that tasted good.
While we ate, we chatted about my brothers, other relatives, and our lives in general. I found myself relaxing, no longer so worried about what my mom might think about everything. She seemed to like my apartment, and she was pleased to see Wimsey again. The feeling must have been mutual. When we settled in the living room to chat some more after dinner, Wimsey hopped up onto my mom’s lap and purred away while she stroked his fur. Wimsey was typically more aloof, allowing people to pet him for a short while but not usually snuggling up to them. Even with me, he typically didn’t curl up on my lap except on cold winter nights.
When I said good-bye to my mom and aunt for the night, a big yawn escaped me. Sleep would have to wait, however. I didn’t think it was quite late enough to risk sneaking next door to the vacant house, but I had plans for the interim. I grabbed my laptop and settled on the couch again, Wimsey now sleeping on the armchair across from me.
It was time to see what I could find out about my suspects.
I started with Miranda and George Keeler, but that turned out to be a waste of time. Neither one of them seemed to have social media profiles, and aside from the one restaurant review from years ago, nobody else had written anything about them, at least not that I could find. Even unearthing the review took quite a bit of digging. I winced when I read it. Dominique sure hadn’t pulled any punches. Phrases like “deep-fried cardboard would have tasted better” had me feeling sorry for George and Miranda until I remembered that one of them might be a cold-blooded killer. I decided I should set my sympathy aside until I knew whether they were innocent or not.
I gave up on the Keelers and shifted my attention to Alicia Jollimore. I figured since she was in her early twenties she’d be more likely than the Keelers to be active on social media. That turned out to be the case. She’d posted lots of photos of her best friend’s adorable Yorkipoo puppy on Instagram. I scrolled through the pictures with a smile on my face until I reminded myself that I was on a mission that had absolutely nothing to do with puppies.
After checking out Alicia’s other profiles, I was almost ready to turn in my amateur sleuthing badge, if I’d actually had one. This search hadn’t turned up anything useful about any of my suspects but I had one more name I wanted to check out.
I found far more information about Nick Perry than I had about Alicia and the Keelers. He’d written numerous travel articles that had been published online and he also had professional social media accounts. At first nothing I found made my sleuthing senses tingle, but then I dug up an interesting tidbit. Nick had attended the same college as Dominique and Samantha. I stumbled upon that information on one of his social media profiles, where he’d posted a photo of himself with his soccer teammates from his college days. I did some more searching and discovered that he’d been an elite athlete in his early years of college, but in his senior year, a serious knee injury had put an end to his chances of becoming a pro soccer player.
Nick’s truncated athletic career wasn’t what I was really interested in, however. I reeled myself in from that tangent and refocused on the fact that he’d studied at the same college as Dominique. Nick had majored in English, but he’d attended the college around the same time as Dominique. It looked like he’d graduated one year ahead of her.
