Canal Days Calamity Page 4

  As soon as I said it, I wanted to suck the words right back into my mouth.

  Ben gave me The Sigh and The Look. His patented Ben is exasperated, leave him alone look, accompanied by a rattling sigh from his depths that sounded like he couldn’t put up with me for one more second. The look that made me wonder how I could be so stupid, even if I didn’t think I’d been stupid at all. The sigh that inflicted guilt, even if I didn’t know what I felt guilty about. He had The Sigh and The Look down to a science.

  “Go home, Cam,” he said, and turned and walked back to the door.

  Deflated but simmering with annoyance and curiosity, I made my way over to where Monica and Mom were standing with Irene and her huddle. “Ben wouldn’t tell me anything,” I announced before they pounced.

  “They have this all wrong,” Stewart said, shaking his head. “John and Paul are the last people they should be fingering for Butch’s murder.”

  It sounded like he had a hunch who the police should be suspecting. “They must have enough evidence to arrest them,” I said, hoping to prod his thoughts on the matter.

  “Can’t be anything substantial. Those two didn’t have any business with him. No reason to want him dead.”

  “Hmm …” I sidestepped closer to my father-in-law. “I heard they wanted to buy Landow Farm, but Butch wouldn’t sell.”

  “Well, he sure and shoot ain’t selling now, is he? They have nothing to gain from Butch being dead. Now that farm goes into probate and will be tied up forever with Phillis trying to get her grubby paws on it.”

  Fiona shot a nasty look back at us over her shoulder. Stewart held up a hand and gave her an apologetic smile. She snapped her head back around.

  “You think Phillis had a part in his death?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know. Love and hate, you know what they say, there’s a fine line.”

  “She didn’t seem very stable tonight either,” I said.

  “Phillis has always been one apple shy of a bushel.”

  “Sounds like the perfect suspect.”

  Stewart nodded. “Only problem is she was in Cincinnati at some art exhibit from last night until late this afternoon when she got back and breezed in here like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  “Art exhibit?”

  “She’s an artist. Some kind of sculptures. Makes no sense to me. The woman has to live off of donations or sponsors funding her while she creates her masterpieces.”

  To me it sounded like she could benefit from selling that farm and raking in all the cash. Would it motivate her to murder her ex-husband?

  The police cars sped off, leaving the pockets of people in the parking lot with nothing to stare at. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t fed it. Hank Jenkins was putting away all of his BBQ supplies. “I wonder if Hank has any left overs,” I said, nudging Monica. “I’m starving.”

  “Stress eating,” Irene said, with a tsk tsk.

  “We haven’t eaten dinner yet! I’m not stressed! I’m truly starving!”

  Mom’s eyes grew wide. “See if he has some honey for those biscuits, Cam,” she said.

  “Right. Honey.” I gritted my teeth and stalked across the lot toward Hank with Monica on my heels.

  “Hi, Cameron,” Hank said, holding up a pair of tongs in greeting. “Come for the food and stay for the show, huh?”

  “Actually, I didn’t manage to get any food earlier. You wouldn’t happen to have anything left?”

  “It’s your lucky day. I have chicken and ribs and some pulled pork sandwiches.”

  My mouth watered. “Give me two of everything.”

  “I hope some of that’s for me,” Monica said.

  “I don’t share my BBQ.”

  “I’ll throw in extra,” Hank said, laughing.

  “What do you think about all of this?” I asked, waving a hand out behind me. “Crazy, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, Cam. Sometimes I think the whole world has gone insane and this place was the last spot left on Earth. I guess it had to reach us some time.”

  “But Andy being arrested, and now John and Paul. I can’t see any of them hurting someone.”

  “No, I can’t either, but then again, it’s usually someone the victim knows. At least that’s what I learned from watching true crime shows on TV.”

  “I guess that’s true.”

  “Nobody likes to think that one of their neighbors could do something like that, but every criminal has neighbors.”

  I pondered this as he stacked our foam boxes filled with BBQ. Every man and woman in jail had neighbors and friends, family and coworkers. How many of those people were shocked when they found out the person who lived next door was in jail for murder? Why did I think I was exempt from having someone in our tiny town commit such a terrible crime?

  “Here you go,” Hank said, passing a bulging plastic bag over his grill. “I threw in some baked beans and coleslaw.”

  “Sounds heavenly,” Monica said. “Smells heavenly, too.”

  “Thanks, Hank,” I said, holding the bag close. If this day brought one good thing, it would be this BBQ, and nothing was going to happen to it before I got it home.

  On our way back to the car, my cell phone rang. I passed the food to Monica and answered.

  “They’re not releasing Andy,” Cass said, sobbing into the phone. “They’re keeping all three of them.”

  “What? Are they going to arrest the whole town until they can figure out who did it? They can’t do that! Can they?”

  “They say he could’ve been there with John and Paul. He might have created a diversion while the other two did—I don’t know what! Something! They think they acted together since all three were on the film and at the farm at the same time.”

  “Oh, good gravy. Don’t worry, Cass. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Right after I ate my BBQ.

  ∞

  Stomach full and fingers sticky, I leaned back in my chair at the kitchen table. Across from me, Monica’s eyes were hazy. “That was the best BBQ I’ve ever eaten,” she said. “Now I’m going to go sleep for a week.”

  “So much for making dog treats.”

  “We didn’t get to the store. I’ll have to go tomorrow.” She looked down at Isobel, who lay at her feet. “She’s happy with the bites of chicken I gave her, anyway.”

  I’d tried to give my rib bones to the dogs and Monica almost had a conniption fit. Little did I know that any kind of cooked bone could splinter and get caught in the dog’s throat. I just knew dogs loved bones. Monica had really been studying up and knew her stuff.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do without Andy helping me get Dog Diggity ready. He was building shelves and some display tables and new shutters for the windows.”

  “We’ll find someone to help. This town is full of handy people who know how to do things like that.”

  I really didn’t know who we could ask, though. Everyone with a store was busy getting their own displays ready for Canal Days. Stewart might help out, but that would give Irene an opening to get her paws and influence in Dog Diggity. He’d have to be our last resort.

  The front door opened and Mia came stomping inside. She slammed the door, tossed her apron on the floor and yelled, “My dad is such a jerk!”

  “Whoa,” I said, standing up. “Calm down and tell us what happened.”

  “I tried to ask him if I could go out with this guy, and he totally freaked. He said I was too young to date. I’m sixteen! When I tried to argue, he said he was too busy to deal with me and sent me home with Grandpa Stewart.”

  “Who’s the guy?” Monica asked.

  “Nobody now! I’m not allowed to go out with him, so what does it matter?”

  “I’ll talk to him, okay?” I had no idea what good that would do. He sent me home tonight, too.
We were both on his naughty list, apparently.

  Liam skittered around Mia’s legs, jumping and yipping. She scooped him up and nuzzled him. “I’m going to bed. I have to work tomorrow.”

  I knew that meant she was going to lay in bed talking on her phone to Steph all night, complaining about how unfair her dad was being—a conversation that would surely dominate their workday tomorrow as well.

  Mia stomped up the stairs, leaving Monica and I wondering where our mom had gotten off to. “Weren’t Irene and Stewart supposed to drop her off ?” Monica asked.

  “I’ll call her.”

  I dialed her number and it rang and rang. “She’s not answering.” A gnawing feeling erupted in my stomach. Or it was heartburn from the BBQ. “Where could she be?” I left a voicemail asking her to call me and hung up.

  “Maybe her ringer is turned off,” Monica said, clearing the table. “She does that a lot.”

  “You’re not worried?”

  Monica had lived with Mom, and then near her after she moved out, for a lot longer than I had. Plus, the two of them worked together and Monica was always the favorite.

  Monica shrugged. “She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need a babysitter.”

  “That’s a strange thing to say.”

  “Why? What’s so strange about it?

  “What if something happened to her?”

  “What could happen to her at a BBQ with your in-laws?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s not here and she’s not answering her phone.”

  Monica rubbed her forehead. “Trust me. She’s fine.”

  “What’s going on? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  She turned away, stuffing the foam boxes into the trash. “Nothing’s going on, Cam.”

  “That doesn’t sound convincing.”

  “It’s not my place to tell you, okay?”

  The gnawing sensation grew. It definitely wasn’t heartburn. “To tell me what?”

  She leaned over the counter, resting on her elbows and propping her head in her hands. “Mom and Dad. They’re divorced. They’ve been apart for a little over a year.”

  “What? Divorced? Nobody told me!”

  “You had your own marriage to worry about, Cam. Mom didn’t want you to worry about them. Their marriage was over a long time ago. They were basically roommates. One day they decided to talk about it and discovered they both wanted to see other people, so they got divorced.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” She turned and opened the cupboard. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Coffee? That’s going to make this right?”

  “There’s nothing wrong about this, Cam. It’s just new to you. They’re both happier than they have been in years.”

  “What about that birthday present you brought me a few months ago? It was from both of them.”

  “Mom knows Dad is terrible with remembering dates. She put his name on it like she always has.”

  “I can’t believe this.” I sat down hard in my chair, head reeling.

  “She was planning on telling you tonight, but after showing up to a dead man behind the store, she figured it could wait a little longer.”

  “Well, why not? I mean, it’s already been a year.”

  “Don’t be upset, Cam. We didn’t want you dealing with this and Ben. You weren’t there, so you didn’t need to know.”

  “I didn’t need to know my parents are divorced? What about holidays? They were both there last Christmas.”

  “They’ve been together for the majority of their lives. They both wanted the divorce, but they’re still friends and even go to dinner sometimes. Spending the holidays together with their kids isn’t so strange.”

  “I feel so duped.”

  Monica sat a mug of hot coffee in front of me. “Well, don’t worry. Mom’s just fine. So is Dad.”

  “I just wish she would answer her phone.”

  Monica let out a groan. “I didn’t want to say this, but I know where she is. She told me when you were talking to Ben, when John and Paul were being arrested.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Getting a tour of Carl Finch’s castle.”

  Oh good gravy. Carl Finch wasn’t going to end up being my brother-in-law, he was going to end up being my stepdad!

  • Five •

  All of this honey was drowning me, and not in niceties. There were more buzzing pests showing up at my house each day. My porch columns looked about ready to burst.

  “You need a hive,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned on my step ladder, where I was busy spraying bug repellant, and almost fell off. Old Dan stood on my sidewalk, looking up at me, while Elaina Nelson, in her Sunday best—shiny hot pink patent leather shoes and purse plus a black-and-white polka dot dress—hopped up the cement steps to stand next to me. Shading her eyes with her white gloved hand, she started singing. “One hundred fu-zzy bees on the porch, one hundred fu-zzy bees. Take one down, swat him around, ninety-nine fu-zzy bees on the porch.”

  “I need to get rid of a hive,” I clarified for Old Dan. Maybe he was having one of his senior moments.

  “No, you need to get those honey bees out of there and into a hive.” He worked the chaw tucked behind his lip and spit on the ground. “I’ll build you one—have them out of there in no time.”

  “You can do that?” I shouted over Elaina’s obnoxious crooning.

  “You let me have some of the honey, and consider it done.”

  “It’s a deal.” I jogged down the porch steps and shook his hand.

  Elaina’s singing tapered off, and she ambled down to stairs to join us. “I was just trying to convince this old man to take me to dinner,” she said. “We make a nice pair, don’t we, Cameron? Old Dan and Grandma Diggity.”

  “Grandma Diggity?” I chuckled.

  “Grandma Diggity is hip,” she said, wiggling her hips, attempting some hip-hop dance move.

  “Speaking of hips, don’t break one.” I hooked an arm through hers before she fell over in my yard.

  “Shake it don’t break it!” she shouted, then burst out laughing.

  Old Dan spit on the ground, unfazed by her attempts to lure him into buying her dinner.

  “Why don’t you both come inside? I was just about to give up on those bees and go in and get Sunday dinner cooking. I’d love it if you both could stay and eat.”

  “What are we having?” Elaina asked, skipping to the porch.

  “Lasagna. Monica went grocery shopping for most of the ingredients, but I’ll get the sauce on so it’s ready to put together.

  I had a couple glass canning jars of tomatoes Cass had put up over the summer. They’d make a nice sauce.

  I opened the door and invited the town’s two oldest residents inside, standing with my legs spread and my arms outstretched to hold off the canine stampede. “Stay down!” I commanded as Gus stood on his back legs and rested his paws on my shoulders. In answer, he gave me a big, wet lick on the cheek. Liam skittered between my feet, jumping on Elaina’s shins.

  “Watch my stockings, you little runt!” she said, swiping him up off the floor into her arms. “Aren’t you just the feistiest little cat ever!”

  “He’s no cat,” Dan said.

  Elaina held Liam out, examining him. “Looks like a Persian I used to own. Best cat I ever had. Wonder what ever happened to him?”

  “You still have him,” Dan said. “Why’d ya think your screened-in porch is covered in white fuzz?”

  “I thought that was from the cottonwood trees.”

  If I didn’t know that Sue made a daily visit to Elaina’s house to make sure the cat was fed, the oven was turned off, and the bathroom wasn’t flooded, I’d be concerned for the poor cat. Plus, I’d seen Elaina’s cat outside a fe
w times, carousing with Spook, the sneaky black cat who sometimes showed up in my house through a yet-to-be-found attic entrance.

  “Looks like your hounds have been using your woodwork for a chew toy,” Old Dan said, toeing the bottom of my newel post.

  “I know, and Irene’s going to have a fit when she sees it. I was hoping Andy could fix it for me, but now that he’s in jail and we don’t know when he’s getting out …”

  “I’ll fix it for ya. Just need an hour or two and it’s as good as new.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you were so handy with tools and wood and fixing things.”

  “Been doing carpentry since I was a boy. Know my way around a saw and some nails, I’d say.”

  “You’re a life saver. Come on into the kitchen and let me get you two something to drink.”

  After pouring three glasses of sun tea and setting out a plate of Betty’s cookies from Grandma’s Cookie Cutter, I wrangled my beasts into the living room and tossed them fresh rawhides to keep them busy.

  “That’s not how you make sauce,” Elaina said, watching me get all of my Italian seasonings out of the cupboard. “Let me do it. You sit with Dan. I know how to feed a man.” She pushed me aside and winked at Old Dan. He muttered something under his breath and took a sip of tea.

  “Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” I said, taking a butterscotch chip oatmeal cookie from the plate.

  “Ever since we were wet behind the ears, that one’s been tryin’ to dig her claws into me.”

  “Well, you’re both single now. Widow and widower. It’s nice to have a friend to do things with, I would think.”

  “Suppose so. She does make a nice pot roast, too. That ain’t a half-bad reason.”

  “More than any reason Ben has to hang around me.” I laughed, but Old Dan wasn’t fooled.

  He took my hand and patted it. “Rough times come, rough times go. Nobody’s perfect.”

  I hadn’t heard from Ben since he dismissed me the night before. Mom came home around midnight, glowing like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Dan was right, nobody’s perfect, but I couldn’t look at her, not knowing she’d kept such a huge secret from me. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done to pretend I didn’t know what was going on, and it would be impossible not to blow up and remain civil when the topic finally surfaced.