Case of the Burned Brownies Page 4

  “What did you say?” he asked, the tenor in his voice changing. He was clearly mad, trying his best to hold his temper. Beatrice suddenly became very aware of just how big the imposing man was.

  “Nothing. I just meant that you vanished when the crash happened and it looked a bit…” she shrunk back with each word, aware of the way that the mechanic was standing over her, choking on rage. He seemed to be getting bigger by the second.

  “A bit what?” he pressed, stepping closer to her now; an act which only further emphasized his size over Beatrice.

  “Nothing.” Beatrice began, taking a tiny step back as she worked to avoid his eyes. She just realized that she had confronted a murderer, feet from his own shop, with no witnesses around. She really had a bad habit of putting herself in these types of situations.

  “That’s your car?” he asked, pointing at Beatrice's car that was still parked in the driveway of the garage. She had meant to come over here first thing in the morning at ask about getting it fixed. Not come over here and accuse the town’s only mechanic of murder.

  “Yes,” she said solemnly, only too aware of where this was going.

  “Well, good luck getting it fixed. I’m kind of busy at the moment. Could be a few days or weeks,” he said with a delightfully, evil smile. Then, without a word, he turned and stalked back into the garage, leaving Beatrice alone and dejected.

  And just then, as if to emphasize how much Beatrice had messed up, the rain started again. It fell thick and heavy, drenching Beatrice to the bone before she even had a chance to move. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if she had anywhere to go, not now anyway.

  7

  My oh my, that smells amazing!” Susie beamed, showing what had to be her first smile all day. “I don’t know why you never taught cooking at school?” she finished, taking another deep breath.

  “You’re really too much,” Beatrice said, trying not to blush. Although she didn’t try too hard. If there was one thing that Beatrice loved, it was people complimenting her cooking, and if there was another thing she loved, it was when her cooking was physically appreciated. Seeing the way that it brought a smile to Susie’s lips made Beatrice’s heart do backflips in her chest.

  As it looked like Beatrice and the girls were going to be here a while, Beatrice decided that she may as well make it count and settle in properly. The first thing she did was call up the soon-to-be happy couple in Kingstown and tell them that she couldn’t make it. Although they were disappointed, they understood why and wished Beatrice the best. She had a pretty good feeling that the wedding would still be fine, even without her baking.

  The second thing she did was head down to the local supermarket and pick up a few supplies. When Beatrice spoke up making her time at the hotel count, she of course was talking about cooking.

  If there was anything that came close to resembling a cure-all, cooking was it. It had the marvelous ability to transform Beatrice’s mood on the spot. It could cure sickness and even raise the dead, although Beatrice had never actually put this theory to the test.

  Another thing that it could do was ease the transition process for two friends who were hoping to be in the middle of a vacation right about now. Beatrice couldn’t stop feeling guilty about dragging her two friends along on this ride. She hoped that a little baking might make things easier for them.

  After her run in with Buddy, she hurried back to the hotel where she consoled Susie. Amongst the tears and blubbering, Beatrice announced that she would be making brunch for her and anyone else who wanted to join. As the hotel was empty, it was just Beatrice, Susie and the gals.

  The brunch was, as always, a lavish affair. It was a mixture of classic breakfast stuffs, like bacon, eggs and sausage, mixed with more traditional brunch fare like muffins, bagels and toast. She even made fresh coffee, using beans that she had bought from the local market. She knew that if that couldn't cheer Susie up, nothing could.

  It was therefore a relief to see her smiling, finally, as she served up her first plate.

  “So, what were you and Buddy arguing about earlier?” Beatrice asked once everyone was settled and eating. Beatrice had already told Susie that she was going to find out what had really happened and although Susie was at first insistent that she needn’t bother, she soon came around.

  “It’s a… you see, my daughter was kind of well-known around here. She owned a lot of the buildings on the main street, including Buddy’s garage. Buddy was behind on his lease payments and I was just reminding him of that fact. I know him and I just know he’ll use this as an excuse to get out of paying.”

  Well, that was interesting, Beatrice thought to herself as she bit into a sausage. There’s that golden motive that she was after. A little obvious, she thought, but they usually were. These killers weren’t exactly the smartest of folk.

  “Is there any prune juice?” Sophie asked, holding her empty cup out.

  Stella sighed, picking up a jug of prune juice, which Beatrice had specifically bought this morning, and pouring it for Sophie who smiled with delight before chugging the whole thing.

  “So, you think it might have been Buddy?” Susie asked. She sounded almost hopeful at the prospect and Beatrice couldn’t blame her. She didn’t like Buddy much either, for obvious reasons, but at the same time, Beatrice was a professional. She wasn’t going to jump to conclusions without the facts.

  “I’m not sure. First, I need to… I need to...I need,” without warning, a giant sneeze erupted from Beatrice’s nose and mouth. By the time she recovered, she started to cover her mouth, but “Oh my! I’m so… so...so…” another one flew out. The entire room seemed to shake, or maybe that was just Beatrice’s imagination.

  “Do you have a cold?” Susie asked, sounding concerned.

  “No, I don’t think so. Allergies,” Beatrice responded through a thick nose of mucus.

  Allergies were the only reasonable explanation. She had taken a variety of cold and flu tablets already and clearly, they weren’t doing the trick. Plus, her nose only itched when she was in the hotel. She was fine earlier when she was shopping and when she was trying to talk to Buddy.

  There was something in this hotel that was upsetting her sinuses. If she were planning on settling in here for the long run, she might become concerned for her health and well-being, but as it were, there were more important things to worry about. So, as Beatrice endured another giant sneeze, she contented herself with dealing with the slight inconvenience of a runny nose and watery eyes.

  8

  The funeral for Ms. Parker was to be held the next day, two days after Lacey Parker’s death, and Susie all but insisted that Beatrice and the girls attend. At first, Beatrice tried to decline, thinking that a funeral was a little too personal for her to be getting involved in, but she soon saw it for what it was, the perfect opportunity to cast her web and learn more about Lacey and anyone else who may have wanted her dead.

  Beatrice had been to many funerals in her time. That was just a part of life at this point; when one hits their sixties people just start to drop like flies, but she had to say, the funeral for Ms. Parker was probably the oddest one that she had been to yet.

  It wasn’t odd in the way the reception was carried out, or the church setting or the eulogy that was given. It was strange in the mood that seemed to accompany everyone at the funeral. Funerals were, by and large, very depressing affairs. There were always tears, sometimes even fights and everyone, no matter who, spoke in a soft whisper, as if raising their voice might wake the dead. The funeral for Lacey was completely opposite of that.

  From the moment that Beatrice entered the church, she couldn’t not take note of the pleasant, almost happy atmosphere of the people in the room. Sure, they all wore black, and they all sat in silence during the ceremony, but that was where the funeral decorum ended.

  There was loud chatting emanating from everyone in the room, a little yelling and even laughter from others. As Beatrice stood beside Susie, gazing around the ro
om, she could have sworn that she even saw some people with smiles on their faces.

  “Who are these people?” Beatrice asked, almost certain that many of them had come by mistake, or that they weren’t aware of the serious nature of the situation.

  “People from the town,” Susie confirmed, not bothering to look around. “Nearly half the town is here.”

  “Oh.” Beatrice said, now taking a closer look at the faces of the people in the crowd. Indeed, they all seemed rather unperturbed by the current setting, as if they were glad that Ms. Parker were dead.

  Although she assumed that to be her imagination, a few small chats with some of the locals soon confirmed that this was in fact the truth. Beatrice spoke to everyone from the funeral director to the teachers at the local high school and even a young boy who couldn’t have been any older than ten. With each person she spoke to, her opinion of Lacey Parker became worse and worse.

  On more than one occasion, the person all but cheered the sudden death of Lacey, and there was chuckling from some of the others. Word was that she was more than a handful when it came to her lease agreements. The word ‘cow’ was thrown around by more than one mourner too.

  This of course, came as a great frustration to Beatrice. How was she supposed to narrow down suspects if every single person in town, barring Susie, seemed to be elated over her death? She couldn’t very well interrogate the entire town now, could she?

  “I’m having the best time,” Sophie said, suddenly popping up beside Beatrice. Even though she was wearing an all-black dress, her bright yellow hair still made her look a little inappropriate, but then again, there wasn’t much about this funeral that was appropriate anyway.

  “Sophie,” Beatrice scolded. “You’re not meant to be having a good time.” But even as she said the words, she looked around again, noticing that a fair few people seemed to be having a grand old time.

  “Why not? Stella is,” Sophie pouted as she pointed at Stella. Beatrice had lost track of Stella a little while ago and now she saw why. Tucked in the corner of the room, as if trying to hide, was Stella and Officer Handy.

  Beatrice pursed her lips, knowing exactly what Stella was up to. Usually she wouldn’t have interrupted her friend. She knew how upset Stella got when a conquest was blocked like that, but Beatrice was happy to have spotted him. She had a few questions for the young officer.

  “Officer Handy,” Beatrice said as she approached the officer and her friend.

  The moment she spoke, Stella turned to her, offering the coldest glare she had ever seen. The two were leaning up against the back wall with Stella getting very, very close. Their faces near touching. “Beatrice,” Stella said, jaw clenched. “What are you doing?”

  “I just need to ask the officer a few questions,” Beatrice said, holding her nerve. Surely, Stella could see that what Beatrice was trying to do was slightly more important than what Stella had in mind, and knowing Stella, a little interruption wouldn’t be enough to throw her off her game. If anything, she might welcome it as a challenge to test her skills.

  “Now?” Stella snapped.

  “Yes, now,” Beatrice confirmed, holding her stare.

  “Fine,” Stella said, letting off a sigh. “I’ll just refill our drinks. Don’t you go anywhere,” she cooed to the officer before taking his glass, offering him a wink and walking away.

  Officer Handy watched her go, a stupid grin on his face. As Beatrice watched him, she wasn’t sure if that grin was for Stella, or a result of the amount of alcohol he had consumed, causing the muscles in his face to spasm. Even the way he leaned on the wall, which she again assumed was because of Stella, seemed to be more of a necessity than anything. Officer Handy was exceptionally drunk.

  “Officer Handy,” Beatrice begun again, leaning into his field of view.

  “Ah...yes?” he asked, looking Beatrice up and down as if he had no idea who she was. There was every chance that he actually didn’t. A great cop he makes.

  “Beatrice Fletcher. We met the other day at the ah… crash site.”

  “Oh yes! Yes… I remember… you called the services right?” he managed, squinting the whole time as if he was truly having a hard time remembering. All the while he remained leaning up against the wall too.

  “That’s the one. So,” she began, not sure where she was going to go with the questioning. He didn’t seem like he was in the right frame of mind to answer anything now. “Nice funeral.” she offered.

  “Not bad,” he agreed, nodding and smiling as he gazed around the room. It was as if he was admiring a music festival, rather than a funeral. “Shame about Derrick not being here. Very shameful. Although can’t say I’m surprised. Not one bit.”

  “Derrick?” Beatrice asked, her ears picking up. For some reason, she had never heard mention of a Derrick.

  “Yeah, Lacey’s boyfriend,” Handy said, frowning as he did, or maybe his whole face was just drooping. Either way he looked very odd.

  Beatrice was well known for her intuition. It was famous amongst her close friends. She couldn’t even say how many Trivia Pursuit games she had won as a result of it, or how many arguments she had come out the victor. And right now, it was roaring to life.

  “She had a boyfriend?” Why had nobody mentioned this before? Why had Susie not mentioned it before? The moment that Beatrice told her that she was investigating the case, Susie should have pointed to him instantly. A boyfriend was a prime suspect, no matter what the circumstances were.

  “Oh yes. And they were well known down at the station. Always turning up with bruises and sprains. Even filed a police report one time for…” Whether it was the alcohol wearing off, or just the realization that he had said too much, Officer Handy stopped short. “Excuse me,” he said, pushing himself off the wall with great difficulty and limping away.

  “Oh great,” Stella said, popping up behind Beatrice with two drinks in her hands. “You scared him off.” Not that it seemed to bother her too much, she simply hurried across the room and intercepted him. An act which he seemed only too happy about.

  Beatrice didn’t mind, now that she had gotten what she needed. Lacey had had a boyfriend and by the sounds of it, he was rather handsy. If that didn’t make him a suspect, Beatrice didn’t know what did, not to mention the fact that he didn’t even come to the funeral. As much as everyone else in this town seemed to dislike Lacey, even they made an appearance. Buddy had even shown up for the eulogy - an appearance that Beatrice made sure to note.

  Beatrice was going to have to have a chat to this Derrick, and very soon. Something about him just didn’t sit right. She just hoped that he hadn’t skipped town. If he had, then this investigation was going to be a lot shorter than she had thought.

  9

  The first thing that Beatrice did when she got back from the funeral was corner Susie and ask her why she didn’t mention Derrick. It was just so bizarre. She had told Susie specifically that she thought her daughter had been killed and that she was going to solve it. And Susie had said, or at least sounded like she was behind this idea.

  “Because I just didn’t think it was relevant,” Susie explained as she fussed around behind the counter at the hotel. She seemed to only be paying Beatrice half of her attention. “Really. He’s such a lovely, lovely man that there was no way he could have done it.”

  “That’s not what Officer Handy seemed to think,” Beatrice pointed out, trying to catch Susie’s attention. She was acting a little weird, truth be told. Beatrice had emphasized before how important it was to have all the suspects figured out. Yet, she had just conveniently let Derrick slip her mind.

  “Officer Handy? He can barely tell one end of his gun from their other,” Susie reminded Beatrice, still not paying her much attention as she ducked her head down behind the counter.

  “OK,” Beatrice sighed. She didn’t want to give Susie too much pressure, she was grieving after all. Maybe the tragedy had caused her to forget? It was likely, kind of. “Just, I need to know everything if
I’m going to help. Now please, is there anything else that I should know? About Lacey or anyone in town?”

  Susie was resolute that she had told Beatrice everything. Besides, Susie couldn’t see why it was such a big deal when they already knew that the mechanic was responsible. Even when Beatrice told Susie that she wasn’t so sure, Susie countered that it had to be him.

  In fact, it was only when Beatrice promised to keep looking into Buddy, that Susie seemed to relax, moving onto her next point.

  “Oh, and can you do me a tiny little favor,” Susie continued. “I need to duck out for an hour or so. Do you mind watching the front desk?”

  Beatrice obviously said yes to this simple request. Although she knew next to nothing about the intricacies of hotel management, she was sure that it couldn’t be too challenging. She had nothing else to do at the moment, as Stella had left the wake with Officer Handy and Sophie had run off with a group of new friends to the after-after party, although Beatrice had never heard of such a thing, especially after a funeral.

  The only thing that may have stopped her from agreeing was that, like clockwork, her allergies had started back up the moment that she stepped foot in the hotel lobby. They seemed to be getting worse too. The constant mucus was so much that Beatrice had resigned to shoving two tissues up her nose and leaving them there, just to save her the hassle of constantly wiping the snot away.

  Even the presence of the hotel’s cats, who purred and pawed at Beatrice for attention, couldn’t distract her from the allergies. It was going to be a very long few days.

  Beatrice had been watching the front desk for a little over thirty minutes when the first guest of the day arrived. In fact, it was the only other guest that she had seen since arriving at the hotel two days ago. As such, she made sure to put on her best and most welcoming performance.