Cast Iron Conviction (The Cast Iron Cooking Mysteries Book 2) (8 page)

Chapter 11: Annie

“H
ow was your night?” Pat asked me as I walked into the Iron the next morning. He was already hard at work restocking our inventory. “Did you have any trouble sleeping?”

“It took a while, but I finally managed to get a little rest,” I said. I didn’t want my twin brother to know that I’d been restless all night because of Albert’s murder. It might not have bothered Kathleen as much, but I wasn’t a seasoned law enforcement officer. Talking to someone and then having them die on me was just about more than I could handle. The odd thing was, when I was busy living my life during the day, I didn’t focus on it, but in those dark and forlorn moments before sleep finally came, the enormity of what had happened had asserted itself. There would be no more daybreaks for Albert Yeats, or sunsets, either. His time had been stolen from him, and I wasn’t going to let that happen without consequences for the thief. “How about you?”

“Probably the same as you, I imagine,” he admitted. “You should have called me; we could have talked about it.”

“If I’d known that you were awake, I would have. Who knows? Maybe it would have helped,” I said, but I knew that I wasn’t very convincing.

“Probably not, though. The only thing that’s going to do either one of us any good is tracking down the killer and making sure he pays for what he did,” Pat said somberly.

It was odd seeing my twin brother like this. Morose wasn’t quite the word that fit his mood, though that was clearly part of it. Determined was another that was close. Intent might be the best way to describe him at the moment, but I wasn’t exactly sure that fit, either. Maybe it was a combination of all three. “How do we get started, Pat? We can’t exactly shut the place down so we can investigate, or can we?”

“No, it would probably cause more problems than it would solve. Think of it another way. At least we have that much going for us.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

“We don’t have to close our doors. You know as well as I do that just about everyone who lives in Maple Crest comes in here every day. We need to keep an eye out for our suspects, and when one of them comes into the Iron, we need to take advantage of the situation.”

“That might be a little tricky,” I said. “We don’t even know the right questions to ask anyone.”

“That’s true enough. I spent some time last night when I couldn’t get to sleep going over Albert’s notes again.”

“Did you have any more luck than we did before?” I asked.

“No. In fact, they made even less sense than before, if that’s even possible.”

“Then we’re just going to have to wing it,” I said.

“I suppose we can bring Albert’s name up with everyone who comes in and just see what happens. We can also try to nonchalantly ask them for their alibis, though I don’t know how that’s going to fly,” Pat said, and then he paused for a long moment before he spoke again. “Annie, there’s something else I should tell you before anyone else shows up.”

“What is it? You know that I can’t stand the suspense.”

Pat let out a deep sigh, and then he said, “We missed something before, but this time around, I saw someone else’s name in Albert’s notes that hasn’t been mentioned so far. I wasn’t sure that I should even tell you about it. It’s highly prejudicial, and besides, it just doesn’t make any sense. Still, I owe it to you to tell you everything, no matter how trivial it might seem.”

“Now I’m really dying to hear what you discovered.”

“Edith’s name came up,” Pat said flatly.

“
Our
Edith? When? How?”

“I found a reference to her in one of Albert’s notes that we missed the first time through. It was scrawled in the middle of a diatribe against someone else, so it was easy to miss.”

“Patrick Marsh, you’re stalling. What did it say?” It must be really bad, or my brother wouldn’t be dragging his feet like he was.

“Albert wrote that Edith had her own reasons to want to see Mitchell Wells dead.”

“Did he happen to say why?” I asked, clearly as shaken by the news that our postmistress might be involved in the murder as my brother was.

“He wrote something about the fact that secrets can’t stay secrets forever, no matter how many people you have to kill to try to bury them.”

Just hearing the words sent chills down my spine. “What secrets do you suppose he was talking about?” I asked him as I moved a little closer.

“I wish I knew. I double-checked everywhere else, but that was it.”

“Do you mind if I take another look at them myself?” I asked.

“Be my guest. They’re upstairs on my nightstand.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I found the notes just as promised, and then I walked back downstairs to rejoin Pat. He was right. The note referring to Edith was on top of the stack, and it was just as cryptic as my brother had sworn.

“What do you think?” Pat asked as me as I frowned at the photocopies in my hands.

“I don’t know. I’m sure Albert had his reasons to include Edith’s name among his list of suspects, but the reference to a secret is beyond me.” Pat nodded in agreement, and then he started getting the cash register ready for the day’s business.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. “We’re not finished with this yet.”

“Annie, we might be investigating two murders, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to be open and conducting business as usual soon, either. Our customers need us.” As my brother finished reloading the cash register with money for the day’s transactions, he said with a wistful nostalgia in his voice, “I know a lot of people have switched to debit and credit cards, but I hope that cash never completely goes away. There’s something about making change and actually handling the money that makes it real to me, you know?”

“I agree with you, but I’m not too concerned about the advances of the modern banking economy at the moment,” I said, perhaps a little too harshly. “Pat, what are we going to do about Edith?” Just as I said it, I looked up and saw the woman in question standing at the front door a moment before she knocked. Neither Edith nor Skip had keys, so they had to wait for us to let them in. “Then again, we could always just ask her point blank,” I said as I moved toward the door.

“What are we going to say, ‘Did you kill Mitchell Wells and Albert Yeats?’ That’s a tough question to bounce back from, Annie.”

“I was thinking about being more subtle than that,” I said softly, and then I opened the door and let her in. “Good morning, Edith.”

“I’m not at all sure what’s good about it. Did you hear about Albert Yeats?” she asked us.

“We were there when Kathleen discovered the body,” I said.

“Oh, I hadn’t heard that. How dreadful for you both.”

Pat asked softly, “Did you know Albert very well?”

“Not intimately, but our paths crossed on occasion.”

“When exactly was the last time that you spoke with him?” I asked her. It was an important question, and there was no better time to ask it.

She looked surprised by it nonetheless. “Heavens. Annie, are you asking me for an alibi?”

“No, it’s not that at all,” I said, hastily talking before things got even worse. “I spoke with him yesterday afternoon myself, and Pat talked to him even later than that. I was just wondering when you saw him last yourself.”

Edith still looked uncomfortable by my question, but I’d done my best to defuse the situation by telling her about our own final encounters first. “Very well. I’m sure that you’ll find out eventually, given how small this town is. As a matter of fact, I spoke to Albert a little before six yesterday evening.”

“Really? That was after we both saw him. What did you two talk about?”

“Mitchell Wells,” she said with a frown.

The pause was long enough to simmer for a few moments before I broke the silence. “What exactly did you discuss about Mitchell?” I asked her.

“As a matter of fact, Albert accused me of killing him.”

“What did you say when he accused you of murder?” Pat asked her.

“I denied it, of course. What would you expect me to say?” she asked indignantly.

“Hey, take it easy. We’re all friends here,” I said, trying to calm her down a little. I knew better than to tell her to do exactly that. It had been my experience that telling someone to calm down is the only surefire method of getting them to do just the opposite. “Why would he think that you might have had something to do with Mitchell’s death?”

“Who knows? The man was a little bit crazy ever since he came back to town. Pat, you spent more time with him than I did. Surely you saw the madness in his eyes as well.”

“Maybe, but so far, we’ve found a kernel of truth in his insanity,” my brother said calmly. “Edith, think hard. Was there any possible reason that Albert could have believed that you were involved in any way with Mitchell’s murder?”

“No! Of course not! It’s ridiculous.”

“Something to do with a secret, maybe?” I asked, and I saw Edith’s face go ashen.

“You know, I’m not feeling too well. I believe I need to go home,” our postmistress said as she turned away from us and toward the front door.

“Come on, Edith, don’t be that way. How are people going to get their mail?” I knew that she had a strong sense of duty, so if anything could get her to stay, it would be appealing to that.

“Let Skip do it,” she said, and then, before I could stop her, she was gone.

I turned to look at Pat. “Were you expecting her to react anything like that?”

“No, I can’t say that I did. She took off as though she were on fire,” my brother said.

“I believe we hit a nerve with that last question.”

“There’s no doubt that your comment about a secret was what sent her fleeing.”

“Pat, I’m sorry, but one of us had to mention it.” Was he really blaming me for running Edith off?

“You misunderstood me,” he explained. “As a matter of fact, I believe that it was
exactly
the right thing to say. She may or may not have killed Mitchell Yeats, but there was some truth to Albert’s note; that much was clear based on her reaction.”

“The real question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“What can we do? We have to keep digging, no matter who it hurts,” Pat said. “If Edith is a double murderer, she needs to pay for her crimes, regardless about how we feel toward her.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t see her killing anyone. Can you?”

“Annie, if she felt backed into a corner with no way to protect her secret, it’s possible that she killed not once, but twice, to keep it from being revealed.”

I whistled softly under my breath. “What kind of secret would that take?”

“I don’t know, but I have a hunch that we’re going to have to find out. In the meantime, we’re shorthanded on a day when we need everyone here.”

“Where is Skip, by the way?” I asked him.

“You’re asking me? I don’t have a clue.”

“I was just checking. While you try to figure it out, I’ve got to get my grill ready. My breakfast customers will be in in no time.”

“I’ll give him a call,” Pat said when I pointed to the door yet again.

“Never mind. He’s here.”

“He’s going to hate working in the cage all day,” Pat said. That was what our junior employee called the little corner of the Iron that served as the town’s post office. In a way, he was right. Surrounded by three solid walls, the fourth had a bank of tiny windows for the mail that could look like the bars of a cage looking out from the inside. Only the small opening where Edith normally delivered packages that were too big for the boxes and sold stamps from offered any kind of fresh light and air at all.

“He’ll get over it, especially when he gets his bump in pay for the day.” We’d quickly defused Skip’s unhappiness about working in the post office occasionally by matching the hourly rate that Edith made whenever he was back there, a decent bump over Skip’s regular pay-grade. It would be a slight hit on our budget that day, but it couldn’t be helped. It was important to keep our employees happy if we could manage it, and we already had one of them apparently ready to leave us for good.