Murder Under the Covered Bridge (16 page)

“You need to be on guard,” Stockton said. “Joy, could I talk to you, please?”

The two of them disappeared out the back door.

Despite the scariness of what could have happened, the group continued to wait on customers. Charlotte was no Joy when it came to serving people with a smile, but she was surprisingly effective in staying on task. “Here you go,” was about all Charlotte said as she rang up the order, took the money, and dispensed the food.

“She could at least say ‘thank you' or something,” Alice muttered to Francine.

“Have you noticed the line is moving faster, though?” Francine said. “Let's not get too critical. When Joy comes back, we may actually catch up. How are we moving faster?”

“It's because we have to,” Alice said. She was no longer drizzling the glaze but dunking the donuts in it. “We're doing whatever it takes.”

Joy came through the back door of the booth with Detective Stockton. She retrieved another corn fritter donut from the case and gave it to him.

“I just received a phone call,” he said to the group, “and given the circumstances, I think you should know about it.”

Charlotte handed the wax paper sheet she was using to handle the food to Joy. “The guy with the goatee wants a dozen cinnamon rolls. With chocolate frosting. I don't know what to make of that. I've gotten more requests for chocolate iced cinnamon rolls. I didn't even know that was an option.”

Mary Ruth studiously avoided answering her question.

“Anyway, that'll use up the last box we have up front. Toby will have to bring more from the back.” She moved quickly to where Stockton was standing.

“A few more orders like that and we'll be completely wiped out of cinnamon rolls,” Toby said.

“Then we'll just sell them cookies,” Joy said with a smile. She moved to the sales position. “Any coffee to go with those cinnamon rolls?” she asked the man with the goatee.

“This will only take a minute,” Stockton said, then his deep, rumbling voice went so soft only the women around him could hear it. “You may have heard rumors that we did not locate a body in the fire on Zedediah Matthew's property. Based on what we heard from your eyewitness testimony, we had expected to. Now, after a thorough search, we're convinced he got out alive.”

“That's good, isn't it?” Mary Ruth asked. “I can tell you that man knew how to bake. Although it was based on a small sample size.”

“Yes, it's good that he's alive. But I think you know that William Falkes is not. So we want to talk to Zed Matthews. He's now wanted for questioning in regards to Mr. Falkes's death.”

“On charges of Involuntary Manslaughter?” Charlotte guessed.

“At this point we only want to talk to him.”

“Why are you telling this to us and not others?” Francine asked.

“We believe he may try to contact one of you. We want you to keep us informed.” He looked at her as he said it.

Francine picked up on his gaze. “What possible reason could he have for trying to contact one of us?”

“We'd rather not say.”

She gulped, wondering if they'd somehow intercepted his text to her. She knew it was possible, though she didn't understand how they could have found it so quickly among the millions of texts that must have occurred in the area with the Covered Bridge Festival going on. “Is there a reason for us to be concerned?”

“He's a dangerous man. And quite possibly desperate. Everything in his house went up in smoke last night. He'll need resources from somewhere.”

Francine thought about this. The police must already be monitoring things like bank accounts trying to locate him. Zed certainly indicated last night he didn't want to be found. What would it look like if she was caught helping him? On the other hand, he wasn't guilty of anything yet.

She glanced at Charlotte, hoping to caution her not to say anything.

But Charlotte had a mischievous smile on her face. “Don't worry, detective,” she assured him. “We'll let you know if he tries anything.”

seventeen

“Well, that was disturbing,”
Francine whispered to Charlotte after Detective Stockton had left and they were back to serving customers.

“I find it more disturbing that Stockton's first name is Roy. That would mean, as a couple …”

“… they would be Roy and Joy.” Francine glowered at Charlotte. “I've already thought of that. And it's not the most disturbing thing.”

“Lighten up.”

“What are we going to do about Zed?” Francine could hear the anxiety in her own voice. William's death rankled her for many reasons, including reminding her that she was now involved in another murder case.

“I think we should meet him as planned. If my estimates are correct, we will run out of food right after the lunch crowd. Again. That will give us plenty of time to get to Bridgeton in the middle of the afternoon.”

Mary Ruth threw away the last empty box of cinnamon rolls. “Out of cinnamon rolls!” she called up to Joy. “How many scones are left?”

“They were gone a half hour ago. I just got an order for a dozen corn fritter donuts. Can you fill it?”

“Yes, but I'm on my last batch. I've got maybe thirty more to glaze.”

“What's left?”

“We still have ten dozen cookies and six flourless chocolate cakes I can cut into pieces. They're the only things left in inventory.” Mary Ruth let out a sigh but didn't appear shaken.

“I still have coffee!” Jonathan said. “Sell coffee!”

Francine turned to Mary Ruth. “You seem remarkably calm considering how little you have left and that we're just approaching lunch hour.”

“Six hot cocoas!” Joy announced.

“Remember, yesterday afternoon Marcy convinced me that shortage is not a bad thing.”

“How can it not be a bad thing? Customers are grumbling about it. They're leaving unsatisfied!”

“It makes them want to come back. It's special. Do you remember how the guys used to drive all the way over to St. Louis to buy Coors beer when we were in our early twenties? It was only distributed west of the Mississippi. It had an allure. Marcy says this shortage can have exactly the same effect.”

“You really have hired her, haven't you? You weren't just kidding yesterday at Zed's.”

“For the duration of the festival, yes. And maybe a little after.”

Francine looked out over the crowd standing in line. They were anxious. “I don't know. Looks more like they're standing in a bread line to me.”

Jonathan wiped his hands on a towel that was
coffee-stained
. “You don't remember bread lines. We're not that old.”

“Heard about them.”

“Have you noticed the orders they've been placing are getting bigger and bigger?” Mary Ruth said. “They're hoarding.”

Francine chuckled. “They can't possibly eat them all before they go stale. Are they freezing them for later?”

Jonathan laughed. “Maybe there's a black market for them.”

Joy butted in. “I don't care what they're doing with them. We've got to get the orders filled until we run out! Francine, can't you work faster on those hot cocoas?”

Francine set out the six cocoas she was working on and sprayed whipped cream in each one. Then she snapped a lid over the tops. “Hot cocoas up!”

Charlotte, working beside Joy, packaged up a dozen of the whole grain
cinnamon-raisin
cookies, using bakery sheets to handle them. “Two more coffees!” Charlotte called. “Do you have the other two coffees ready that I asked for?”

“Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I took them to fill an order I had,” said Joy. “I thought they were mine.”

“Four more coffees!” Charlotte grumbled.

“I'll get them,” Jonathan said.

“I'll make more while you pour those,” Mary Ruth said. “I'm out of things to do anyway, now that we're not scrambling to make more confections to sell today.”

Francine was still worried. “Does the crowd know we're going to run out?”

“Marcy's out there
re-directing
those in the back of the line to other vendors.”

“Wait!” Alice said suspiciously. “Are the other vendors paying Marcy for that service? They should!”

“I didn't ask,” Mary Ruth admitted. “I'm more concerned that they not become unruly. I think Marcy's goal is to defuse a bad situation and keep the Mary Ruth mystique alive, so I think she's pitching them to come back earlier tomorrow while suggesting they find somewhere else to eat right now.”

Joy used a spatula to put several pieces of the chocolate cake on paper plates and passed them over the counter, taking in money for them. “We've seen an increase in police presence in the area in the last fifteen minutes.”

Charlotte snatched up the four coffees Francine had prepared before Joy could get her hands on them. “Well, no wonder the cops are hanging around. There's no attraction stronger in the universe than between cops and donuts.”

“That's politically incorrect, even coming from you, Charlotte,” Mary Ruth said, spooning coffee grounds into a coffee urn. “I bet Detective Judson back in Brownsburg doesn't eat donuts. I saw him at the pool this summer with his family, and he's got abs.”

“Diet is the killer part,” Toby said, coming in from the back. “I'd have abs if food didn't taste so good.” He turned to his grandmother. “Detective Stockton said we need to be sure we lock up tight when you close for the day and put some kind of security system on the door if you have one. They patrol the areas, but with so many vendors, it's difficult to keep an eye on every booth.”

“I just sold the last dozen corn fritter donuts,” Charlotte said. “Batten down the hatches and prepare for storms!”

“Relax,” said Mary Ruth. “What can we do but sell what we have? There's always tomorrow.”

Maybe Marcy's not such a bad influence after all
, Francine thought.

Not more than fifteen minutes later they were totally out of food. They could have continued to sell hot cocoas and coffee, but the crowd wasn't very interested in those without the treats, so they decided to close up for the day. While there were many disappointed customers, most left quietly to find other places to eat. It was close to one o'clock by the time they got locked up, remembering Detective Stockton's warning to double-check everything. They bought sandwiches from a vendor across the street from them, who was so excited by their presence that he had his picture taken with Mary Ruth holding a sandwich. Then they headed back to have lunch at the mansion. Francine quietly sent Jonathan to Dollar General to purchase some items for Zed.

Everyone was tired from being on their feet all morning. Francine kept a watch on the time while they sat quietly and ate lunch. When Mary Ruth's helpers started to arrive, Francine raised a question. “Can you spare Charlotte, Jonathan, and me for a couple of hours?” she asked. “We need to get to Bridgeton sometime this afternoon. We won't be gone very long, I promise.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Joy said. “Why don't we all go? We can just work later tonight. I'd rather do that than spend all afternoon doing more prep work, and then sit around all evening too tired to do something.”

Francine was caught
off-guard
by Joy's request. She hadn't anticipated having more company. It complicated matters. “I don't mean to make more work for you or take away your help,” she told Mary Ruth.

Mary Ruth looked around at the ingredients she'd started to pile up. She grimaced. “I only have two helpers today. How long do you think you'll be gone?”

“No more than a couple of hours. We can't do much shopping.”

Alice weighed in. “There's nothing really to shop for anyway. All of us have all the junk we need in our houses. Aren't we looking to downsize?”

There was general murmuring of agreement.

Joy seemed puzzled. “Then why would we go, if we aren't going to look at junky antiques or buy knickknacks we don't need? There isn't much else. With all the sampling we've been doing from Mary Ruth's sweets, we certainly don't need to try any of the
high-fat
fair food being hawked.”

“We can people watch,” said Charlotte. “It's one of the best places to watch people.”

They could all agree on that, but Francine knew that wouldn't explain why she would be carrying around a bag of clothes and food once they got there.

“There's a reason Jonathan, Charlotte, and I need to go that has nothing to do with people watching,” she said.

“We figured something was up,” Joy said. “Even before your cousin passed away, you've been acting secretive, you and Charlotte. And now Jonathan's here. Why is it you suddenly need to go to Bridgeton?”

Francine saw no way out but to tell the truth. The story spilled out of her. “And he told me not to bring anyone with me. So even bringing Jonathan would violate what he asked. Having all of you there may keep him away.”

Alice was aghast. “Why is it you want to meet with a man who may have killed your cousin?”

“There's some connection Zed has to me, and I don't know what it is. Yet. I know it has to do with the past. He tells me he's going to reveal it. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think he was only chasing William off his property and didn't intend for him to get hurt. William's death has complicated matters, but I still want to find out what this connection is. Zed doesn't have much time before the police catch up to him, I think, so he's going to have to reveal it soon somehow. Meeting him in Bridgeton gives him that opportunity.”

“Here's what we'll do,” Joy said. “We'll all go together, but when we get to Bridgeton we'll hold back so that we can see you but we'll just melt into the crowd. He said he'd find you, right?”

“Fine help we're going to be if we're not by her side,” Charlotte said.

They all looked at Charlotte.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It's not like we can move quickly enough through a crowd to be of any help.”

“I appreciate that you want to protect me,” Francine said. “But he doesn't mean me any harm. I honestly believe that. He's gruff and he's probably guilty of something, but I don't feel personally threatened. What did you find out about him when you went sleuthing at the library?”

“He's threatened plenty of others,” Charlotte answered. “The Parke County Register reported several
run-ins
he's had with the law. They're all the same. Someone was trespassing on his property, and he was within his rights to throw them off. Mostly it involved guns, though. The police didn't like that. He never wounded anyone, but he scared them.”

Francine nodded. “I'm sure he scared them. That was my first impression of Zed. But he didn't hurt any one of them.”

“At least not until William,” Joy said.

“That may not have been intentional,” Charlotte answered. “Anyway, the papers liked to print photos of him with the stories. He always looked like he's one of those survivalists you see on the Military Channel. I bet he could live in the wilderness and kill game animals with his bare hands.”

Another observation Francine could agree with. “How old do you think he is? Did the papers say?”

She shook her head negatively. “On and off he's been in the papers for probably
twenty-five
years, and he looks about the same in all the photos.”

“
Twenty-five
years? Really?”

“It's probably the bushy beard hiding all the wrinkles and the fact he has sunken eyes. If you get stuck with eyes like that, you're gonna look old even as young as forty, and I'm sure he's older than that.”

“You think he's about our age? Early seventies?”

“Funny you should ask. I went back and checked the genealogy records they had for the county, and I couldn't find him anywhere. I went back to the 1920s.”

“So he must've been born in another county,” Joy said, like the answer was obvious, “or he'd be living in one of those nursing homes your cousin and his wife own.”

The thought of William and Dolly and their nursing homes made Francine realize she hadn't heard from Dolly or her sister since this morning. She wondered how Dolly was doing. As busy as they'd been, she could have missed a phone call. She checked her cell. There were no calls. Nothing.

Jonathan came in carrying two full, distinctive yellow sacks from the store. They all stared at him. “What? A man can't do a little shopping?”

“They all know why I sent you,” Francine said. “I couldn't help it. They all want to come to Bridgeton.”

“Except me,” Mary Ruth said, “though I'd like to. Now, I'm sorry to have to rush this along, but if you're going to go, you need to do it now. Go find Zed and then come back. I'll need you.”

Soon they were in two cars headed for Bridgeton.