Killer Spring Page 13

  “Sorry, I’m not dressed for it.”

  “A likely excuse,” Jill chided. “You’re afraid to step out of the house because you think Wallace will ambush you.”

  “Yeah, there’s still that possibility.” She looked out the window and saw the ball of paper. Oh, yes. She could just picture it. She’d walk out, bend down to pick it up and before she could straighten, Wallace would…

  What would be his weapon of choice?

  A rock?

  “If he had killed you, he would have had the perfect cover story.”

  “I had the same thought and I still can’t figure out why he came.”

  “Maybe he thinks life is too short to hold grudges,” Jill suggested. “Hey, let’s do Facetime.”

  Good heavens…

  “Go on. I know you wanted to come. This is the only way you can see what’s going on.”

  Eve huffed out a breath. She could feel herself fixating over that balled up piece of paper. She hadn’t given Wallace a reason to try to make amends. His visit would have made sense if she’d had a chance to apologize, but she hadn’t…

  Leaning the phone against the sugar canister, she said, “I need a cup of coffee.”

  When she sat down with her steaming mug of coffee, she saw that Jill had pointed the phone toward the front pews. She hoped she’d remembered to turn the volume down. Just in case she hadn’t, Eve made a mental note to avoid yelping.

  The service ended and the congregation stood up. Jill did her best to keep the phone pointed toward the front.

  Eve watched as the mourners followed the casket out of the church. Bernice Glover walked several steps behind two men Eve assumed were Chad’s uncle and cousin.

  Eve reached for the cookie jar and helped herself to a cookie.

  She saw Mira and David joining the line and walking past Jill’s pew. Mira must have noticed Jill holding up the phone. At first, she frowned and then she leaned in. Smiling, she gave the camera a small wave.

  Good heavens…

  Mira nudged David and whispered something to him. He then looked at the camera and waved.

  A moment later, Eve’s phone buzzed.

  Checking it, she saw a message from David.

  His contact at the police had come through with a list of people Chad Burrows had been in touch with shortly before his demise.

  Eve bit into her cookie.

  Chad Burrows had received several phone calls from his uncle.

  She didn’t see anything unusual in that.

  Glancing at the phone, she saw it bounce up and down. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m jogging to my car. I want to get a prime spot at the cemetery. Everyone else is hurrying too.” Jill laughed. “I think they’re still hoping you’ll show up.”

  “What do you suggest I do? Climb a tree?”

  “Hey, that’s a good idea.”

  “Hold on a sec. I’m obsessing about the pie recipe.” Eve made the rounds of the house, looking out of the windows to make sure Wallace hadn’t returned. When she felt sure he wouldn’t pounce on her, she eased the back door open and rushed to get the ball of paper.

  Back inside, she flattened it out.

  “It’s real,” she exclaimed.

  Sounding out of breath, Jill asked, “What is?”

  “The pie recipe.”

  She heard Jill open her car door and then slam it shut.

  “Watch your driving,” Eve warned.

  “I want to get ahead of the hearse. Otherwise, it’ll slow me down. Especially when it crosses the bridge. You’re not the only one proceeding with caution. Your paranoia about the bridge has been spreading.”

  Eve tapped the piece of paper. “You’ll never guess what the secret ingredient is. I’m kicking myself.”

  “Are you going to keep me in suspense?”

  “He adds a splash of whisky to the dough. It’s a classic. The French do it. Why didn’t I ever think of doing it?”

  “Because we’re more milk and cookies kind of people?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Are you going to spike our food?”

  “What you don’t know won’t kill you.”

  “Hang on. I recognize that tone. You’re going to start baking now. Eve, this isn’t the time.”

  “You’re right.”

  Putting aside the recipe, she made her way up to her bedroom to change clothes.

  She owed Wallace an apology.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.”

  Mark Twain

  “I didn’t think this through,” Eve muttered. Rushing out of the house, she’d made her way straight to the bridge; her focus fixed on getting to Wallace Greenaway’s farm.

  Now, she’d arrived at the bridge only to find the funeral procession clogging up the road as the cars slowed down to a snail’s pace to cross the narrow bridge.

  Noticing the person in the next car peering at her, Eve lowered her head and sunk into her seat. “No, I’m not attending the funeral. I promise, I’m headed in the opposite direction.” She could just imagine the woman arriving at the cemetery and telling the first person she encountered that she’d seen that notorious Eve Lloyd up to no good.

  “Who are you talking to?” Jill asked.

  Eve cringed. She’d forgotten about Jill. “No one. Just… talking to myself. Did you know Jack’s started doing that?”

  “No… I haven’t noticed. But I did notice you changed the subject.”

  “I’m still upset about Wallace’s visit. He must think I’m nuts. Anyhow, are you already at the cemetery?”

  “I’m just pulling up. I’m the first one here. That gives me an advantage. I can sit in the car and watch everyone… Hey, I could record people as they arrive. I didn’t notice anyone suspicious at the service but, you never know. I guess that’s why the police attended the funeral. The killer might be among the mourners. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before. Yes, I’ll definitely get this on video.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’ll have to disconnect you for a while.”

  “That’s okay. You do what you have to do.”

  The cars started moving. Eve found herself sandwiched between two cars. The one in front slowed down and the passenger stuck her head out of the window to get a better look at her.

  Eve cringed. “I’m stuck in the middle of the bridge.”

  Checking the rearview mirror, Eve could see the driver of the car behind her had her phone pressed to her ear. Eve imagined she was in the process of alerting the mourners of her presence.

  “Nothing to see here, folks. Just keep moving,” Eve muttered and wished she had something to use as a disguise.

  Frowning, she looked around her.

  Had the bridge groaned?

  Eve tapped her hand on the steering wheel. “Come on. Move!”

  Finally, the cars started moving.

  As soon as she cleared the bridge, she made a right hand turn while everyone else turned left.

  She had no way of knowing if she would find Wallace Greenaway at home. For all she knew, he had missed the church service but had every intention of attending the interment.

  She hoped to find him at home. With any luck, they wouldn’t have an audience.

  Living in such a small community, it wouldn’t do to be forced to cross the street whenever she encountered him.

  “I hope this doesn’t backfire on me.”

  She knew her actions would either restore peace or trigger an all-out feud.

  However, Wallace Greenaway had taken a positive step today…

  He had opened a door, waving the white flag...

  “To make peace or…” Eve shook her head. She needed to believe his intentions had been good and she needed to rectify the situation before it got worse. But she wouldn’t do it without some sort of safety net.

  As she neared the farm, sh
e dialed Jack’s number.

  “Eve? Are you driving?”

  “I might be.” She slowed down and came to a stop just outside the drive into the farm. She could see a truck she recognized as belonging to Wallace parked outside the garage. “Jack, I know you’re working but I need you to do some multi-tasking for me,” she said.

  “What exactly are you asking me to do?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I just need you to watch my back… sort of. If you hear me yelp, then… You might want to make your way to Wallace Greenaway’s farm.”

  She heard Jack groan and she had no trouble picturing him raking his fingers through his hair.

  Heavens, she hoped his hair didn’t start thinning due to excessive worrying over her antics.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Eve, I hope you’re not thinking of accusing him.”

  Eve rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Although, she had to admit, a straight-out accusation always got results.

  “There’s actually a rumor floating around about you being here at the cemetery,” Jack said, “People keep looking around and up at the trees.”

  Leaning forward, Eve squinted her eyes and thought she saw Wallace coming out of the garage and walking toward the back of the house. “Out of curiosity, now that you know where I am, does that make you an accomplice?”

  She heard Jack grumble under his breath. “If anyone asks, I tried my best to convince you to turn around and go home. I might have to inform my superior…”

  “Captain McLain, of the nepotistic McLains?”

  “Hang on, here comes Josh. He can be my witness.”

  Eve heard a muffled conversation.

  Employing his most commanding tone, Jack said, “Eve, turn the car around and go home. Wallace is still a suspect. He could be dangerous. Is that understood?”

  “Am I on speaker?” Eve asked.

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now you are.”

  “I hear you, Jack. But now I’m here, I need to go through with this. Wallace and I need to clear the air.”

  She put the car into gear and drove up to the house. Before she could change her mind, she jumped out and walked up to the house.

  Looking toward the side of the house, she called out, “Wallace, I want a word with you.”

  Several minutes later, Wallace appeared, his perpetual scowl in place.

  “What are you doing here?” he growled.

  Eve considered explaining her actions and apologizing for interfering in his feud and anything else she might have done to cause him grief, but then she thought better of it.

  Giving him her most brilliant smile, she said, “I wanted to thank you for the pie recipe. I can’t wait to try it out.”

  His lips firmed and he barked at her, “You don’t try it. You do it.”

  Eve could not have been more surprised. “Yes, sir.” Eve grinned and had the pleasure of seeing his eyes brightening with amusement.

  They both scooped in a long breath.

  Eve’s shoulders relaxed. She knew she should play it safe and leave now.

  “You do well enough,” he said, “but you’ll do better with this recipe.”

  How did he know how she usually fared? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the inn. How would you know how my pies taste?”

  He tapped his nose and swung on his feet. “I’m busy. Go away.”

  Eve would not be put off. Instead of walking to her car, she followed him. “Wallace, I need my rhubarb and I refuse to settle for poor quality rhubarb. You know you grow the best ones around.”

  He smacked his lips. “I like your rhubarb cobbler.”

  For a moment, Eve thought he wanted her to bake him a bribe, but then she realized the way he’d said it had suggested he’d already tasted her cobbler.

  “It’s tangy,” he added.

  “I drizzle lemon syrup on it,” Eve deadpanned, her thoughts a whirlpool of activity as she tried to figure out how he’d gained his secret knowledge.

  Did one of the guests sneak the food out for him?

  It would have to be a regular guest.

  Since opening the inn, she had planned on doing afternoon teas but with one thing and another, she had ended up delaying it.

  Instead of pushing him for more information, she asked him an entirely different question. “I heard you had an ongoing feud with Chad’s aunt, Claire Burrows.”

  Wallace stilled. For a moment he looked unsteady. Then, he pushed himself to move.

  “Claire didn’t mind.”

  Instead of his usual brusque tone, his voice had softened. Eve would bet anything there had been something going on between them.

  “She had a brother. Why didn’t he inherit the farm?”

  He bent down to pick up a spade and then continued walking.

  Eve struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  Wallace shrugged. “She didn’t like him. The man’s a gambler and a drinker. He would have sold the farm and gambled away the money.”

  “Is that what’s going to happen now? It looks like he’s the last surviving heir.”

  His shoulders stooped. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

  How would he intervene? “I’m guessing Chad had a will.”

  “I doubt it. He was too young to be practical.”

  And yet… there had been all those telephone calls from his uncle. Surely they must have talked about it. Had he convinced Chad to do the right thing?

  “Wallace, why didn’t you go to the service?”

  He stopped and looked toward Chad Burrows’ farm. “At my age, you get tired of saying goodbye.” After a moment, he swung the spade over his shoulder. “You have the pie recipe. Don’t you want to try it? Go on. Get going. I have things to do.”

  She didn’t argue. “I guess I’ll see you around and I’ll be sure to bring you a rhubarb pie made with your recipe. Then you can tell me how well I did.”

  When she settled herself in the car, she sat back for a moment. It had all turned out better than she’d expected. So much so, she now wondered why she had ever suspected Wallace Greenaway.

  Sure, he was grumpy and gruff but that just happened to be his character trait.

  Now that she thought about it, she’d never been bothered by his brusqueness before.

  “Eve!”

  Startled, Eve straightened and looked around. That’s when she realized she’d left the phone behind in the car.

  “Jack?”

  She heard him sigh with relief.

  “Where did you get to? Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. Sorry, I jumped out of the car and forgot the phone. Are you still at the cemetery?”

  Eve tried to define the sound Jack made. A soft roar? A grumble?

  “I’m half way to Wallace’s farm.”

  “Why?”

  “I heard you get out of the car and then nothing. What did you expect me to think?”

  “Oh… Sorry. Please tell me you don’t have the sirens on.”

  Eve stuck her head out of the window and heard the distant sound of sirens…

  Taking a deep swallow, she put the car into gear and drove out.

  “Right… Well, I’m headed home now. How about I meet you there?”

  She turned into the road and saw Jack’s car approaching. She could see the light still flashing but he’d flipped the siren off.

  As she passed him, she grinned and waved.

  Checking her rearview mirror, she saw him slow down and turn to follow her.

  “Jack? Are you there?”

  “I’m just going to make sure you go home and stay home. A ball and chain. That ought to do it…”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Very few of us are what we seem.”

  Agatha Christie

  Jack followed her all the way to Mira’s house. When he climbed out of the car, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he followed Eve inside and helped himself to a cup of coffee, adding a splash of
rum for good measure.

  Meanwhile, Eve organized her ingredients for her pie. She moved around the kitchen humming, smiling and enjoying the moment, feeling almost as if life had suddenly returned to normal.

  She gave Jack enough time to work through whatever point of contention he had been rumbling with.

  When she saw his shoulders relax, she offered him a cookie.

  She waited until he took a bite to say, “I’ve been thinking… actually, I’ve just been wondering where Chad’s uncle lives.”

  “New Jersey.”

  That didn’t surprise Eve. “Let me guess, Atlantic City?”

  He nodded. “How did you know?”

  “Oh… just something Wallace said.”

  “You mean, information you wrenched out of him.”

  Eve smiled. “I employed my supreme charm.”

  “So, did you join any dots?”

  “Not yet. Now I’m wondering where Bernice Glover lived before she came to the island.” She glanced at him. “Do you happen to know?”

  Jack had been about to take another bite when he stopped. He set the cookie down and picked up his cell phone. Scrolling through it, he took a deep swallow. “Excuse me a moment. I need to make a phone call.”

  When he returned, he sat down at the counter and finished eating his cookie in silence.

  “Did you call Detective Phil Forrester?”

  “I might have.”

  Had he joined the dots? “Does he know where Bernice lived before coming here?”

  “Baltimore.” He reached for the cookie jar and then changed his mind. “Why did you want to know?”

  “Isn’t that the first question we ask when we meet someone? Where are you from?”

  “That’s just a conversation starter,” he said.

  Eve poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred in some sugar. Picking up her mug, she pressed the rim against her lip. “When you attended the funeral, did you see her anywhere near Chad’s family?”

  He gave it some thought. “I can’t say that I did. Maybe she wasn’t in the mood. After all, she just lost her boyfriend.”

  “Did you see her talking with anyone at all?”