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A Grid For Murder Part 23

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Hannah looked at me. "Let me ask you something. Do you consider Barbara Brewster a charitable woman?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, do you think of Barbara as someone who gives her coffee and scones away for the sheer joy of it?"

"She treated me to breakfast," I said.

That got Hannah's attention. "Without an agenda of her own?"



As I looked out the window, I remembered Barbara's eagerness to share with me all of the dirt she'd managed to dig up. "No, I have to admit that it wasn't given to me without strings," I acknowledged.

"Then why would Barbara give Joanne Clayton free coffee and scones every day since two years ago?"

I turned to stare at her. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I have my sources around town as well," she said. "There's something there, but I haven't been able to excavate it. So you see, there are more fingers ready to be pointed toward people with reason to see Joanne dead."

"I'll talk to her about it when I get a chance," I said. "Thanks for your time, Hannah."

"What about the card pack?"

I shrugged. "I'll have to think about it."

"It will be here whenever you're ready for it," she said.

I grabbed my umbrella and opened it as I stepped out into the rain. By the time I got to my car, my jeans were wet despite the umbrella. I was tempted to drive home, take a hot shower, and start a fire, but Hannah's news about Barbara was too good to ignore. Maybe a good cup of coffee would help take the chill off as well. At least I'd have that, even if Barbara decided to stonewall me.

But first I had to call Zach and tell him what I'd found.

HE DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO TALK, WHICH MADE ME WONDER why he'd answered his telephone in the first place, but as soon as I told him about Hannah's alibi, he seemed happy to hear from me. After we hung up, I drove downtown to take care of the next person on my list.

The coffee shop was nearly deserted when I walked in, shaking my umbrella to dislodge some of the water still clinging to it. Barbara was wiping down the counter in front, and she nodded toward me as I approached. There was just one other customer in the place, a man huddled over a cup of coffee by the front window.

"What can I get you?" Barbara asked.

"I'd love a cup of black coffee, and the chance to chat, if you have a second," I said.

She looked around the coffee shop. "It looks like you're in luck."

She got my coffee, and then asked for payment. I slid the money across the counter to her, and after she took it, Barbara drew a cup for herself. At least she hadn't asked me to pay for hers, though it looked like my free breakfast was a one-time offer. In a way, I was happy about that. I might have felt a little guilty interrogating her while I drank free coffee.

We found a table as far away from her lone customer as we could.

"What can I do for you?" she asked as she took a sip of her coffee. "Do you have any follow-up questions?"

"In a way," I said as I took a healthy swallow myself before diving into the fray. "I just learned that you gave Joanne Clayton free coffee and scones for the past two years. I'd say that was out of character, wouldn't you?"

She looked at me as though I'd slapped her. "Savannah, what are you talking about?"

"I heard it from a reliable source," I said, hedging my bets. I had no interest in giving Hannah up unless I absolutely had to.

"Was it one of my baristas?" she asked with a wicked look in her eyes. "Give me a name and I'll fire them before it stops raining."

"It wasn't anyone who works for you," I said. "I give you my word on that. From your reaction, I take it that it's true."

"First things first. Let's agree that I never admitted anything to you about the validity of the claim you just made," Barbara said as she stared at me. "False rumors can be just as damaging as true ones, and I mean to step on this with both feet."

"Why fight it, Barbara? It's easy enough to prove, don't you think? I'm sure you had your reasons."

Barbara stared at me, and after a few seconds, she smiled gently. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but it sounds like you're coming after me personally now. I'm surprised by it, to be honest with you. I was under the impression that we were on the same side."

"I want to find Joanne's killer," I said.

"I understand that."

"Then help me. If it doesn't pertain to the murder, I won't tell a soul, and that includes my husband."

She clearly thought about it, and then finally nodded. "I know what that bond means to you, so I'm going to trust you. Regardless of what your source told you, it wasn't every day. I gave Joanne coffee occasionally, and a scone here and there. It wasn't that big a deal."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem telling me why," I said.

Barbara nodded. "That's true enough. I owed her a favor. She helped me out once, and I was grateful for it, so I showed her my appreciation with a freebie every now and then."

"How did she help you?"

"I'm not about to go into that with you," she said. "It had nothing to do with her murder."

She started to get up when I asked, "Where were you the morning she was murdered?"

"I was here, where I am every day," she said dismissively.

"Don't you take a morning off now and then?"

"I do," she said.

"Then it shouldn't be hard to learn if you were here then or not."

She frowned at me, and then finally said, "Fine. I took some time off that day. I had a headache, so I decided to sleep in."

"When did you come in?"

"I was here in time for lunch," she said.

"So, you had the opportunity to get to Asheville and back, and no one would have been the wiser."

"That might be true, but as I said, I had no reason to wish Joanne harm. If anything, I owed her for past kindnesses."

"So you say," I said.

"Savannah, I'm finished with this conversation."

She walked into the back before I had a chance to say anything. A young employee came out to watch the front the second she disappeared, and I knew our interview was over.

I had no idea what favor Joanne had done for Barbara, or if any of what she'd just told me was indeed true. Returning a favor could be her motivation, but so could a low level of blackmail. I couldn't imagine what that might be, but I was determined to find out. We had a new player in our list of suspects, and I was going to go after her, regardless of the consequences.

Chapter 17.

WHEN I GOT HOME, I FOLLOWED THROUGH ON MY promise to myself to grab a hot shower, and after I toweled off my hair, I lit a fire in the fireplace. Zach wasn't home yet, but there was a message from him on the machine.

"Hey, your telephone is turned off. Did you know that? Call me when you get this. I'm worried about you, Savannah."

I checked my phone and saw that my cell battery was dead. It had been having trouble holding a charge lately. I had to get a replacement battery, and soon, since I lived and died by my phone.

I plugged it into the charger, and then dialed Zach's number. "Sorry about that; my battery died again."

He sounded relieved as he asked, "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I found out a few new things that are interesting."

"I'm listening."

I brought him up to date on my conversations with Hannah and Barbara-leaving out the reason why, as I'd promised her-and he whistled when he heard about Barbara's generosity. Zach said, "I never heard a whisper about that, did you?"

"No, but for a place that can spread rumors at the speed of light, some information is pretty tightly held around here."

"Tell me about it," he said. "Why was she doing it, anyway?"

"I promised I wouldn't say," I replied.

He seemed to mull that over, and then finally said, "That's good enough for me, then."

I loved how my husband could switch gears so quickly. "Zach, is there any chance you'll be home in time for dinner tonight?"

"I'm nearly finished here," he said. "What did you have in mind? I could pick up a pizza on the way home if you'd like."

Pizza was part of our fallback diet, but I was frankly getting a little tired of it. "How about some potato soup, instead?" I suggested. "It might be good on a night like tonight."

"That sounds great," he said. "I'll be home in an hour."

"It'll be ready when you get here," I said as I hung up. I started boiling the potatoes and carrots as I thought about what I'd learned. Someone had killed Joanne Clayton, but it seemed like every time I thought I was making progress in my investigation, someone new popped up. I'd eliminated three suspects, and added a new one along the way. Barbara Brewster was a curious case. She could have had a reason to kill Joanne that she hadn't told me, and the fact that poison was used gave me a vague sense of unease. Why did I think she even had the means to kill Joanne? It wasn't as though she had anything poisonous around her coffee shop. Something kept nagging at the back of my mind, but the more I focused on it, the farther it distanced itself from my grasp.

THE SOUP WAS SIMMERING AWAY ON THE BACK BURNER when my husband finally made it home. "The rain's really picking up out there," he said as he ran a hand through his wet hair. "I left my coat on the porch." He sniffed the air. "That smells wonderful. Is it ready?"

"You have time to grab a quick shower if you'd like to," I said. "The soup can wait."

"Ordinarily I'd choose food over cleanliness, but right now I'm soaking wet. That sounds great," he said.

As Zach went upstairs, I turned the heat off the soup and set the table for our meal. While I had the chance, I got out the Parmesan cheese and the Microplane grater. I'd discovered the cheesy addition by accident once, using some leftover Parmesan from another meal. We'd found that the added touch raised the level of flavor in the soup tremendously.

Ten minutes later, Zach bounded downstairs wrapped up in a soft robe I'd bought him for Christmas the year before. It was covered with cartoon bears, moose, and pine trees, and he loved it.

"I'm starving," he said as he rubbed his hands together. "Is there any sourdough bread?"

"I've got it warming in the oven," I said.

"Do we have any real b.u.t.ter on hand?"

"It's already on the table."

He wrapped me in a bear hug. "Have I told you lately how special you are to me?"

"I bet you tell that to all the girls who feed you," I said with a smile.

"Just you," he said as he released me. "Why don't you sit down and I'll serve us both."

"I'd like that," I said. Zach dished out the soup, and then took the toasted bread out of the oven.

I grated the cheese over both our bowls, and we had a lovely meal that was uninterrupted, for a nice change of pace.

After we were finished eating, he asked, "Is there any chance we have dessert?"

"There might be some ice cream left in the freezer," I said.

"Sold. You want some, too?"

"Why not? Let's eat it by the fire."

"Sounds great."

As we settled in, I said, "I had a pair of interesting conversations with my uncles today."

"Listen, before you get upset, let me explain."

I shushed him. "There's nothing to apologize for. I know you're just looking out for me. Did Uncle Barton tell you about his Alaska property?"

"Are you kidding? He had me drooling within the first thirty seconds with his description. I can't wait to see it."

"We could just drop this and leave tonight," I said.

"What about Joanne Clayton? You can't just let this case go any more than I can."

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A Grid For Murder Part 23 summary

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