Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) (26 page)

I looked at it. His name was Ted Culbert, and the firm name contained his name and several others.

I’d call him tomorrow.

Right now, I would enjoy the company of my friend Billi.

And hope I’d be able to do so again.

I wish I could say that the next couple of days faded into the same routine as the past week.

They didn’t.

Oh, sure, they still contained most of the same activities, from walking Biscuit to baking to running the shops—and even a shift at the veterinary clinic.

But I also worked in first a phone call, and then a visit, to that attorney. I didn’t tell Judy where I was going, only that I had an important meeting to attend. Was it wise to be secretive with my staff? I wasn’t sure. But I also didn’t want to broadcast what was going on—and how concerned I was about it.

Ted Culbert’s office was in a part of town near the elite area—on one of the curving downtown streets off Summit Avenue toward the lake. Driving, to save time, I dropped Biscuit off at daycare. I’d do my shift at the clinic after my meeting and pick her up then.

The law office was on the third floor of a four-story building. I reached it by elevator, and when I went inside the waiting room I found it was as posh as I’d figured it would be.

This wasn’t going to be cheap. I’d already asked about Mr. Culbert’s hourly rate and it made me gasp.

But hopefully expense would buy me excellence. And I only required half an hour at the moment, to get him on a retainer. Then I’d have to see how much I’d really need him.

I prayed this would be our only meeting.

It went as quickly as I’d hoped. The nice-looking man in a suit behind his regal-looking wooden desk asked me to call him Ted. I told him why I was there—and of course he’d heard of Myra Ethman’s murder and the fact that someone who’d argued with her the evening before was one of the suspects.

I liked his attitude, and his confidence that he could help fix things for me if and when I needed him. His smile was a killer one—which gave me hope that he’d do all he promised and keep me from being arrested as a killer.

Then I left.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do, but before heading back to the shops after my shift at the vet clinic, I stopped at the Knob Hill Pet Emporium.

Harris was there. He was waiting on some customers as I entered with Biscuit. Purposefully, I headed with her toward the area where collars and leashes were displayed. The detectives had shown me that picture of the ropelike, beige leash used to strangle Myra, which supposedly rendered her unconscious before a rock was smashed into her head.

The Emporium carried a number of different leashes, and when Harris finished with his customers he approached me and said, “You looking to buy another one so you can use it on me?”

I glared at him. “Why would you tell the police that I bought the kind used to hurt Myra here? I didn’t.”

“Then where did you buy it?” His grin looked so smug I wanted to slap it off his narrow face. The way his eyes turned down at the edges didn’t look sad to me now. It looked evil.

I didn’t respond directly to his absurd question but smiled slightly and said, “Just so you know, when they came to visit me I felt fairly confident that they believed me about the leash. Which then sets them onto you, since you clearly have access to what’s in your shop.”

His smile disappeared. “Don’t you accuse me, bitch.”

“Why not? You’ve clearly accused me. And you had a lot more motive than I did. Were you angry about Myra’s affair with Walt Hainner, or did you just want to make sure she didn’t divorce you and take away all her nice backing for this store—and your life?”

“You—” His tone and demeanor were furious, but fortunately I didn’t have to defend myself since some customers walked in and Harris was suddenly all nice-guy again.

“Time for me to leave,” I said pleasantly, and did.

“What’s going on, Carrie?” Judy asked when I returned to the shops, entering the Barkery because I had Biscuit with me. “You just got a call from Harris Ethman. He said you’d better call him back when you got here. He sounded so mad … and when I tried to get him to say what he wanted, he said that you’d better not try to pin his wife’s murder on him when you’re the one who did it.” She looked extremely troubled as she stared at me and asked in a hoarse whisper, “Did you?”

“Of course not,” I asserted. Then my shoulders fell. “I didn’t do it, but the cops appear to think I did—and they’re getting nastier now, maybe because the local news is pushing them to solve the case. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m going to try hard to figure out who did kill her so I can get the authorities heading in the right direction. And that means far away from me.”

“How awful.” That was Dinah, who’d come in for a few hours that day. She must have heard us talking, and she entered the Barkery from the Icing door. “I’m so sorry, Carrie.” She approached me and gave me a hug. “We believe in you. You couldn’t have killed her.”

“That’s right,” Judy said, hugging me, too. “Let’s just hope they get their suspicions pointed in a different direction soon.”

I was never more grateful for having inherited these hard-working, sweet assistants, and I hugged them both back.

I decided not to return Harris’s call. I couldn’t imagine anything he’d have to say to me right now that I’d want to hear. Instead, I told my assistants that if he called me again, they should be polite and say they’d give me the message, but nothing more.

But that unanswered call gave me even more impetus to do something as fast as possible.

I’d called Neal earlier and cleared it with him to go to the resort just before his shift ended for the day. I’d told him why, but promised that instead of my going there to accuse Elise or anyone else in the extended Ethman family directly, I would be more discreet. Sort of.

But I didn’t want to do it at my brother’s expense. He needed to be onboard with what I intended to do.

Of course, he could ignore his rash sister.

Since we weren’t busy, I even closed the shops a little early. To reassure my assistants that I wasn’t just going home to cry, I even told them what I was going to do.

One way or another, I was going to find out who really killed Myra. I had to, if I hoped to get on with my life.

I wasn’t sure whether the authorities just didn’t want to dig too deeply into where the members of the town’s leading families were the night Myra died, or if they had other suspects they were giving as hard a time as me, or whether they were simply focusing in on me because I was convenient after my argument with Myra, or if they thought the biscuit from the Barkery was a key piece of evidence. It didn’t matter why.

What mattered was finding the truth so they would leave me alone.

Since it was late enough, I took Biscuit home, fed her dinner, and walked her, then left her there. I drove to the resort and parked in its lot, then walked inside the main lobby.

As I’d anticipated, Neal was at his usual location behind the desk. The place wasn’t very crowded that night, and I wondered whether that was because the resort wasn’t filled, or because people were dining here and elsewhere or otherwise enjoying their evening at Knobcone Heights.

It didn’t matter, at least not to me. In fact, it was probably better this way, since tourists wouldn’t have the answers I needed.

Too bad I hadn’t invited Reed to join me here for dinner again. But that wasn’t necessarily the best way to ferret out the information I hoped for.

Instead of heading for the dining room, I walked the perimeter of the lobby, checking out the areas where the Ethmans’ offices were.

The office doors were closed, and I couldn’t tell if the rooms were occupied. Neal would know, but he was talking to a few visitors so I couldn’t just go ask him. Instead, I headed toward the rear of the lobby, to the door to the spa that overlooked the hill down to the beach. It wasn’t locked, but neither was anyone in there. It wasn’t somewhere I’d be able to ask questions. At this hour, I’d also not be able to quiz lifeguards at the beach or employees who helped rent boats out to visitors.

Maybe I needed to grab a bite to eat after all.

First, I’d scan the crowd at the restaurant to see if I could get a table … and also to see if anyone useful was there.

There was! To my surprise, not only was City Council member Les Ethman there, but he was eating by himself in the crowded dining room; I didn’t see any vacant table, not even along the inside walls where there was no view of the lake. Les definitely looked lonesome. Or so I told him as I joined him.

“I’m fine, but of course you can sit here, Carrie.” Les rose and pulled out the chair at his right side. His smile was wide, its edges pointing cheerily at the sides of his down-turned eyes. I was used to seeing Les dressed up, but tonight he wore a casual, brown knit shirt with a collar.

“What are you eating?” I asked. Only a salad was in front of him.

“I’ve got a burger on the way. What would you like?”

“Probably the same.” I’d already looked around and still didn’t see any of his relations, either by blood or marriage. My goal tonight had been to latch onto one or more Ethman besides Elise or Harris, whom I’d already quizzed in my way, finding a way to chat with them without, hopefully, creating any more animosity—even as I charmed them into giving me their opinion on who killed Myra. And as I spoke with them, I’d see whether I got any vibes of guilt.

I’d never imagined that the Ethman I’d be dining with would be Les, the nicest member of the family.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t Myra’s killer, but he was the one I considered least likely. And he and I already had a friendly relationship, partly thanks to his dog Sam.

A male server came over and brought us water. I didn’t see Gwen and wondered if she was there that night. I’d keep an eye out for her. It would be good to see another friendly face in here. But the one across from me was friendly enough.

“Just so you know,” Les said, “I didn’t start out eating alone. Elise was with me. But you know she’s running the resort now?” I nodded. “Well, she got a call and had to take it in her office. So here I am on my own. I’m delighted that you joined me, though.”

“I’m delighted too,” I said as my mind raced through scenarios to quiz him about.

The male server returned and I ordered. When he’d left, I opened my mouth to ask an innocuous question that I thought I’d be able to use to segue into a discussion about Myra’s murder and who might have done it. Les himself? I hoped not, but couldn’t cross him off the list yet.

“So,” I began.

At the same time, Les asked, his voice low as he leaned sideways toward me, “Tell me, Carrie. Is it true that you killed my niece-in-law Myra?”

I’d been reaching for my water glass and stopped, staring at him. “I was going to ask you the same thing—only a lot more subtly.”

He smiled, though it wasn’t the warmest smile I’d ever seen on his gracefully aging face. “Touché.” His expression grew darker than I’d ever seen before. “The thing is, Carrie, the City Council’s members have been talking behind the scenes, worried about what having an unsolved murder is going to do to Knobcone Heights’s reputation. I know it’s our police department that is supposed to solve the case, but right now the entire town looks bad, a small municipality where evil things happen and don’t get resolved right away. We’re therefore putting pressure on law enforcement to solve this, and fast.”

Billi Matlock had said something similar, although she’d implied that one reason the Council was majorly concerned was for Les’s sake.

He stopped talking as the server brought his burger and mine, too, along with my salad, the kind Les had been eating on my arrival.

I no longer had an appetite, not that it had been especially intense before.

“Thanks,” I said brightly as Les also said thanks quickly, as if he too wanted the server to leave fast so we could continue this con-
versation.

But did I want to continue it? The one Ethman I’d really liked and pretty much trusted, whom I wanted to trust me … didn’t.

Yet did I really have any choice? And maybe, if my initial instincts were right about Les and he decided that I was telling the truth, that I was innocent, he would actually help me to clear myself—even if it was at the expense of one of his relatives who did happen to be guilty.

“Okay, Les. I’d like to be honest with you, and to trust you. Now I’m not sure I should, any more than you think you can trust me. But here’s what’s going on.”

The first thing I told him was that, despite our minor argument the evening before Myra was murdered, I hadn’t hated her. I hadn’t liked her either, but my feelings wouldn’t have led to my killing her, and I hadn’t.

I then told him about my unwelcome visits from those detectives, including the most recent one.

“I came here tonight hoping to figure out how to question some of Myra’s relatives, since they knew her a lot better than I did and maybe had more of a motive to kill her.” I looked at him. “I don’t think you did it, but tell me if I’m wrong—and if you had a reason to do away with your niece-in-law.”

TWENTY
-
FOUR

S
URPRISE, SURPRISE.
L
ES TOLD
me there were times he hadn’t been especially fond of Myra, especially when he heard she’d been nasty to some of the employees at the resort—or to Harris.

But he didn’t consider that a motive to kill her, any more than I thought my argument with her was.

“And no, before you ask again, I didn’t kill her,” he said forcefully, although he kept his voice low. The tables around us were filled and the people I glanced at appeared to be involved in their own conversations, but ours might be a lot more interesting, so I was glad to keep it quiet.

“Same here. So now we’ve gotten that over with, let’s both assume we’re each telling the truth and move on.”

Would I remove him from my mental list of suspects? No, but he’d been near the bottom before and would remain there. I hoped he felt the same about me—assuming he chose not to exonerate me altogether.