Your Goose Is Cooked (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) (17 page)

I jotted it down on a piece of paper and snapped it onto the ring.

Within seconds, the roll appeared. I placed the plate in front of Elizabeth. Like the lady she was, she picked up her fork and cut down into the chewy pastry.
About made me want to swoon.
William had used whole wheat in the dough, but I knew he had gone full force with the cinnamon-sugar and the cream cheese topping.

I poured myself a glass of water and gulped it down quick-like. It had become the best way I knew to give myself a full feeling fast. And I needed it looking at that cinnamon roll. Times like this made having diabetes tough.

William appeared in the doorway separating the kitchen from the dining room, a dish with a very small piece of cinnamon roll on it. He held it out to me. I struggled with myself for all of one second before snapping up that piece and popping it into my mouth. Instead of devouring it in one gulp, I did what they had suggested in our classes and let the sweet creaminess bathe my tongue. I savored the burst of cinnamon, and the softness of the dough. It was delicious.

I extended my hand, palm out, and William met it in a high five.
“You
da
bomb!”

Elizabeth had left her spot, doing some refills and picking up money. I let her finish with the customers and started bussing tables closest to the kitchen. You see, I had me a strategy brewing about the chief questioning William at the Goose. As I finished up a table, Chief made his entrance.

“Raspberry tea, coming up,” I offered. “You want me to shoo the rest of them out?”

“No. I’ll wait.”

I showed him to a table far away from the kitchen,
then
did my best to spread some fire under the remaining patrons. One lady, someone I’d never laid eyes on before, sipped her coffee and watched my every move. Gave me the shudders the way her eyes followed me. She finally waved me over and held up the bill and some money. “You have a delightful restaurant. I’ll be sure to do a nice review for the Denver paper.”

I reached for the money. She didn’t let go, her smile a glittery artificial Christmas tree. At this point, I’m thinking she was waiting for me to
gush
my thanks. “Don’t do me any
favors,
I’ve got enough business to keep me hopping.”

She frowned and released the money. “You are
LaTisha
Barnhart, correct?”

“I am.”

“I’ve heard about you.”

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t pleased at that. I took a stab at humility. “Good things, I hope.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about the murder of that poor man.” Her expression turned hungry.

“Hear a lot when you’re running a restaurant. Not everything you hear is true, though. It takes a good head to know truth and trumped-up story.” If my comment met its mark, she didn’t show it.

Her head bobbed in agreement; where as seconds before I’d felt like a steak dinner in the path of a hungry lion, it now felt more like the lion wanting to share its meal.

“You are very correct.” Her body angled forward, her voice going soft. “But I heard Aidan was connected to a rumor of a hit being called on the local mayor. Can you confirm that?”

I kept my expression neutral. This news wasn’t known to anyone other than William, the chief, and me. No one could have gotten wind of it unless there was a leak from the police, or William.
Or some other third party who knew of Aidan’s assignment.

If Ms. Reporter hoped to get a rise out of me, she was flat disappointed. Instead, I turned on my irritation. “I got two things to confirm. Aidan
Abbett
is dead and Mayor
Taser
is our mayor. You want anything more than
that,
you’ll need to talk to the police.”

“They won’t talk to me.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Now why do you think that is?” I turned on my heel and made her change, but when I returned, she’d already left. I asked Elizabeth to take over the last two tables of people and trotted myself over to the chief, sliding onto the chair across from him.

“You’re doing a good business,
LaTisha
. Wasn’t that a reporter from the
Denver Chronicle
you were talking to?”

“You recognized her?”

“She came in earlier wanting me to confirm or deny the whole thing about Aidan being the hit man on Eugene. Apparently, she’d received an anonymous tip on the matter.”

“Well, you must not have given her the scoop because she just finished asking me to confirm the rumor.”

Chief balled up the paper from his straw. “Persistent, isn’t she?” He touched the end of his straw to the ball of paper and allowed some of the liquid tea to drop. Like a snake, the paper writhed and unfurled. “I know what you’re thinking,
LaTisha
. You know I wouldn’t breathe a word of anything to anyone. It’s my duty to keep these things confidential. If someone gave her a tip, it wasn’t me.”

In that admission, a question mark hovered over me. “You know I wouldn’t either.
So who?”

He picked up the sodden straw paper in his napkin, his eyes flashing to mine. “I don’t know. I can mention it to William.”

“Chief.”
I paused, unsure how to say what needed said. “William isn’t quite right. I can’t put my finger on it, but his reactions are different.”

He sat back in his chair. I had his full attention. “You think it’s from guilt?”

“No. I think he has a medical condition. I’m just saying it so you won’t be shocked if he laughs or rocks or . . .”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Something else.”

He pinched the sodden paper in his fingers and rolled it in his napkin.

“Lester told me that Eugene was replacing Molly.”

“Heard that.
Eddie and Roger seem strange choices for a replacement.”
 

So he had heard about Molly losing her place as Eugene’s treasurer too.

“You know how things start flying around.” He covered his mouth with his hands and blew out a frustrated breath against his fingers. “It’s just like after Marion’s murder, suddenly everyone becomes suspect.”

“I’m feeling you on that.” I caught Elizabeth waving a hand toward the door. The last of the breakfast rush was headed home, or work, or wherever they were headed. I went off to get William.

“Anyone else know his secret yet?” Chief asked before I’d gone three steps.

“Just Hardy, you, and me.”

Chief gave me a short nod.

Elizabeth came out of the kitchen, purse in hand. “I’m heading over to the store,
LaTisha
. Need anything?”

“No, sweetie.
Go ahead.”

“I’ll be back in an hour,” she called before the door shut behind her.

In the kitchen, I signaled to William. He shuffled through the dining room not looking the least bit happy. I snagged the square container I used to clear tables. Since I’d already plotted to clean the tables closest to the kitchen, I headed over to the ones surrounding the chief that remained to be cleaned. Eventually, I cleaned my way up to the table next to where the two sat, my ear cocked their direction. I worked fast, but tried to keep my bumping to a minimum so I wouldn’t miss anything. Only problem was Chief wasn’t saying anything.

Neither was William. He was staring down at his hands, his upper body vibrating.
Probably jiggling his leg up and down.

That’s when Chief Conrad leaned back in his chair, devilment in his dark eyes. “You know, I’ll do my best to talk loud enough,
LaTisha
, but really, I’m done with questioning William. We were just talking sports before you got to this table.”

I plugged my hands down on my hips and
lasered
him with my eyes. “Well, you can just keep right on whispering. I don’t care one bit about the Pirates, Yankees, Rebels, or any team named after an animal.”

“Oh, we knew you wouldn’t care about the sports.”

“Are you trying to say you think I was eavesdropping?”

“I wasn’t
trying
to say it at all. I just came out and said it.”

I glared.

He grinned.
 

“I’ll get back to work now,” William said. He shoved back from the table. “Bob delivered peaches. I’ll slice them up for tonight’s cobbler.”

Chief stuck out his hand as William stood. “It was nice talking with you.”

I decided to call a truce with the chief by delivering a tidbit that might be interesting. I sat in the chair William had just vacated. “You heard anything about Carl
Baereum
charging people for more than he delivers?”

“You’ve been talking to Eugene?”

“No, Hardy heard it straight from Carl.”

Chief wiped the condensation off his glass with an index finger. “It would be an easy scam and a foolproof way to take advantage of folks while they’re at their weakest emotionally and mentally.”

“Why would Eugene make such an accusation?”

“Who
knows.
”

If Carl was Eugene’s best friend and staunchest supporter, why would Eugene choose now to estrange his friend? On the other hand, if the accusation proved true, Eugene could use it to bolster his image as a candidate.
Concerned citizen uncovering a scam to prevent the locals from being victimized.
Made a nice newspaper article.

“I want you to look over Aidan’s jewelry store with me,” Chief said. “I want your impressions.”

A buzzing vibrated the air. Chief looked down at his side and unclipped a gadget. He stared at it a second. “Mac needs me back at the station. Thanks for letting me use your restaurant.” He lifted a brow in question. “Did I hear him say you were serving cobbler?”

“Don’t you ever eat at home?”

“Sure we do, but when your cobbler’s for dessert, it’s worth the walk into town.” He lowered his voice a notch. “Tonight after service—at Aidan’s, okay?”

“I’ll be there, Chief.”

From the table, I watched him leave. William sat at the island counter slicing a peach in half and pulling out the pit. He rocked gently on the stool as he worked. The work would soothe him. I needed to clear my head too.
A distraction of some sort.
And I knew just the remedy.

Chapter Eighteen

“That’s a lot of peach cobbler,” Elizabeth said as she pulled the first pan from the oven. “I’m glad I got back in time to watch you put it together.”

“A dump of flour, a splash of water.
I cook by feeling.” A laugh spilled out when I saw Elizabeth’s dubious expression.

William took the heavy pan from Elizabeth and set it on the island to cool. She took the stool across from me and watched as I mixed the batter for the last pan of cobbler, sprinkling a generous helping of cinnamon.

“How’re things with George?”

She sighed and fiddled with the edge of her apron. “He was glad I got this job, but he still feels such pressure. We can’t seem to talk about it without it becoming a shouting match.”

William came over to us and stuck a fresh loaf of bread under my nose, the crust golden and making a strange sound.
Like it was singing a one-note tune.

“Looks real good.”
I clamped down on my praise when I felt Elizabeth’s eyes. Maybe my slip was a good thing, it would force William out. “You better start making up some bread for the fund-raiser.”

William stared at me, no expression on his face. His eyes rolled between me and Elizabeth. “I already have.”

Elizabeth clapped her hands together, clearly delighted, her gaze on William. “I thought I heard you whispering to Chief Conrad.”

William retreated, setting the loaf to cook and returning his attention to the dough he’d been working, pressing his palm into it, folding, turning,
then
pressing again.
Over and over.

“He can talk. He’s just very shy and very reluctant to socialize. But I told him it was time to come out of his shell and that he could trust me and you. All of us.”