Sifting Through Clues Read online

  When I strolled inside, I learned that I was the first to arrive. After I was seated at our table on the patio overlooking the ocean, I ordered a glass of sparkling water and read Rhett’s text; he was running late. Was he talking to the restaurant backers again? Sealing a deal without my input?

  Cool it, Jenna. He wouldn’t do that. You’re a team.

  Speaking of teams, I spotted Tina’s boyfriend sitting on the porch a few tables down. He was not with Tina. He was with a luscious redhead. Was it the same woman that Tina had caught him with at Latte Luck? Was it my duty to tell Tina he was yet again stepping out on her? Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe the woman, like Oren’s high school friend, was in town for a special event.

  “Sorry we’re late.” Lola hurried to the table.

  My father pulled out her chair and then settled onto his. “Where’s Rhett?”

  “On his way.”

  Dad folded his arms on the table. “What’s new?”

  “What’s new with you?” I offered a crooked smile as I gazed between them. “Did you set this dinner date hoping to grill me about Bailey?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Lola batted the air. “Of course not.” She toyed with a strand of hair by her ear. “Unless there’s something you need to tell us.”

  “She’s fine. Feeling good. Katie’s been giving her a few pointers.” I shared Katie’s good news. They were thrilled for her. “I don’t think Bailey and Tito have to worry about nursery school quite yet, do you?”

  “Yes! That’s exactly what we wanted to talk about.”

  “Not her future employment expectations?”

  “Heavens, no. If my daughter wants to work, she’ll work.” Lola ticked items off on her fingertips. “But nursery school. College. Emergency funds.”

  My father bobbed his head. “It’s never too soon to start investing.”

  I thought of Pepper accusing Noah of not investing in Cinnamon. Maybe Lola and Dad were right. Bailey and Tito had to address these issues now. And if Rhett and I ever wanted to become parents, we would have to, as well.

  I caught sight of a rangy man who reminded me of Wayne, the assistant manager at Vines, and my thoughts made an abrupt U-turn. “Dad, did you find out if there’s a gambling game going on in town?”

  “So much for talking about my daughter,” Lola gibed.

  “Grill her yourself,” I said and perched an elbow on the table. “Well, Dad?”

  “I’ve been asking around.”

  “And?”

  “My sources didn’t come up with anything.”

  “Your sources?”

  “All the guys who come into Nuts and Bolts. Why? Did something more happen?”

  “Maybe.” I recounted the scene at Vines between Wayne and Oren. “Wayne was reluctant to confide in me.”

  “Why would he?” Lola asked.

  “Because his mother is one of Aunt Vera’s best clients. He stops in when she’s there. We’ve chatted a bunch of times.”

  “Talking about financial issues is a lot different than chatting about the weather and cookbook titles,” my father said.

  Duh, I wanted to say but didn’t.

  He ordered drinks as well as a shellfish platter from our waitress and leaned back in his chair. “Why do you care about what’s going on between Oren and these guys?”

  “Because he’s a suspect in Ivy’s murder. If he’s—”

  “She wasn’t robbed.”

  “That’s just it. She might have been.” I explained about the walk-through with Z.Z. at Ivy’s house and added my concerns about the house’s lack of decorative items. “Ivy had set bonsai plants everywhere, but there were no gems or geodes like she carried at her store. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

  “It seems a little peculiar,” Lola said.

  The waitress brought the drinks and said she’d be back soon with our appetizer platter.

  “The night before she died,” I went on, “I heard Ivy gloating to Crusibella that she was learning her craft, pebble by pebble. She’d even gone on a few adventures to pan for gold and the like. If she was learning to appreciate the stones, why didn’t she put any on display? Why only the miniature trees?”

  Lola said, “I still don’t see how this involves Oren.”

  I explained my theory of Oren smuggling exotic plants on Ivy’s behalf.

  “Smuggling?” Lola gasped. “How much does a bonsai go for? Fifty dollars? A hundred?”

  “A tree made from a thousand-year-old pine went for a million dollars.”

  Lola inhaled sharply.

  “Oren’s boat isn’t equipped to go to Japan,” my father said.

  “It could reach Mexico,” Lola reasoned.

  I said, “He’s buying Jake’s Joy of the Sea.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “That has to cost a pretty penny.”

  “I know the idea of smuggling is a stretch. Truthfully, I keep going back to the stones and the ritualistic way Ivy was posed. There was something about it that was so cruel.”

  “Murder is cruel,” my father said.

  I toyed with my half-eaten piece of bread as another theory struck me. “Noah Pritchett.”

  “What about him?” Dad sipped his drink.

  As Noah’s name left my lips, I realized I hadn’t contacted Cinnamon yet. I pushed the notion aside. Later. After dinner. “Have you met him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He owns a garden shop. It’s an annex of a big box store. He would know about bonsais.”

  “Not necessarily,” Lola said. “It’s a specialized field. Once, I tried to make one and totally botched it. The tree died within a week.”

  “Why is Noah in town, then?” I asked. “He’s very cagey. I don’t buy that he came to see Cinnamon or help Pepper.” I tapped the table. “By the way, Lola, he said he didn’t have business with Ivy on the day he was waiting by her table. He had business with Oren.” I stared pointedly at my father. “Before you ask me how I know, it’s because he was having lunch with Cinnamon at the café and I happened upon them, and I mentioned Lola’s account of having seen him.” I did not need to add that I’d specifically seated them to get the skinny. “He claimed he had lingered, hoping for the chance to talk to Oren. Supposedly, Noah wants to invest in fish oil fertilizer and thought Oren would be a good partner. I don’t know if that was a cover story, or—”

  “Enough speculation.” Dad held up a hand, cutting me off. “Can I assume you’ve brought Cinnamon up to speed with all of your theories?”

  I screwed up my mouth.

  “No?” His tone was curt.

  “I’ve been meaning to. Life got in the way.”

  “Noah didn’t kill Ivy,” Dad said. “According to Cinnamon, he is Pepper’s alibi.”

  I pondered the possibility that Noah killed Ivy and went to Pepper’s to establish his own alibi. Or maybe he was the one who had taken a picture of Pepper and was blackmailing her. If he owned up to being Goodguy, her alibi of cooking at home would be toast. Was that his plan?

  “Have you told Cinnamon about your slashed bicycle tires yet, Jenna?” Dad asked.

  Swell. Apparently, my aunt had reached out to my father. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, making me feel like a thirteen-year-old about to get grounded. Mustering up attitude, I said, “I think the culprit was a teenager on a toot.”

  Dad blew a raspberry.

  Lola rolled her eyes dramatically.

  Rhett breezed up to the table and kissed me on the cheek. “What did I miss?”

  “Chitchat,” I lied and sighed with relief as our waitress set down the platter of shellfish and asked Rhett for his drink order. “Dive in.”

  The rest of our dinner went smoothly. My father backed off, and Lola pressed Rhett and me for information about wedding plans. Lola was particularly excited that we were taking a trip to Napa Valley to see a venue. She loved the wine country.

  After dinner, as my father and I were saying good night, he whispered in my ear. “Touch base wit
h Cinnamon or face your own peril with your aunt.”

  I squeezed his arm. “Fair warning.”

  Rhett asked me if I wanted to walk with him so we could talk. Did I ever. I’d been on tenterhooks wondering what the gist of the restaurant offer was and what his plan might be.

  Lots of people had the same idea as we did. Many were strolling the boulevard, admiring the flowerpots. Spring Fling signs hung above the street, and cart vendors were out in force. Consistent with the festival’s theme, many of the tiered carts featured four-inch indoor plants. My favorite was an ironworks antique flower cart filled with fairy garden items, including miniature fairies and gnomes and their domiciles. I took a photograph to show Bailey; she would be thrilled. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was the same vendor who had participated in the Renaissance Fair.

  “Please fill me in,” I said, clasping Rhett’s hand. “I’m all ears.”

  “As it happens, these are the investors who backed my parents’ restaurant.”

  “Aha. That explains why they sought you out. Your mother and father want you to return to your roots.”

  He smirked. “They want me to be fulfilled.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “With you by my side, always.”

  I signaled for him to go on.

  “The investors want the restaurant to be called Intime of Crystal Cove. We don’t have a French restaurant in town.”

  “Lola won’t be pleased with more competition.”

  “Are you kidding? The Pelican Brief Diner will always be the go-to place for fish.”

  “Don’t let Katie hear you say that.”

  “The go-to place for fried fish,” he amended.

  I giggled. “Go on.”

  “It will be a small-scale restaurant. A bistro. They’ve narrowed it down to one of three locations.”

  My stomach was in knots. They’d already picked out locations? How long had they been on the hunt? “And you’d be the manager?”

  “The executive chef.”

  I gasped. “The hours—”

  “I wouldn’t be the only one.”

  “How can you share that responsibility?”

  “I told them that was a deal breaker. I want a life with you, first and foremost.” He stopped outside Dreamcatcher, its lights off, and clasped my shoulders. “I adore you and everything about you. I told these guys that I wouldn’t do it if it meant losing you.”

  I smiled. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried. Besides, I come with built-in GPS.”

  He kissed me tenderly. “What we agreed on was having two managers and two executive chefs. I won’t work more than three nightshifts a week. Think about it. After we get married, if I’m around too much, you might grow tired of me. This way you’ll get a little alone time. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  I knuckled his arm and hooked my hand around his elbow. “What about Bait and Switch?”

  “As it turns out, my assistant manager is eager to become a partner. He’s going to borrow money from his parents to buy his half, and he agrees to be the full-time manager. I’d stay on as a silent partner only.”

  I couldn’t believe how quickly all of this was happening. I felt like I’d jumped onto a warp-speed ride at a theme park.

  “So what do you say?” He kissed my cheek. “I have to admit I’m scared.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Do we go for it?”

  “What’s life without a challenge?”

  “That’s my girl.” He threw his arms around me and held me close, his breath warm on my cheek. “By the way, I’m a little rusty in the kitchen. I’ll have to bone up on my French cooking. You might have to become my nightly taste tester.”

  “Poor me.” Steak au poivre, chicken à la orange, éclairs and more? Yum.

  He gazed intently at my eyes. “I’ve already talked to our attorney. I’ll have him draw up papers.”

  That gave me pause, especially given where we’d stopped on the sidewalk. Why hadn’t Crusibella insisted upon a formal contract when she’d offered to buy Dreamcatcher? She wasn’t naïve enough to think a cocktail-napkin agreement would seal the deal. More importantly, why had Ivy agreed to sell and then reneged? Had she been equally cool and calculating toward Oren? Whether they had been involved in an illegal smuggling business or not, she had ended their relationship, and yet he, if he was to be believed, had convinced himself they’d never broken up and were going to be married.

  I sighed. According to Wayne, Oren would always hold a torch for Ivy. Was that honestly the kind of man who could kill another human being?

  “Are you okay?” Rhett drew a finger along my arm. “Where did you go?”

  I told him about Oren and his emotionally charged discussions with Thad and Wayne.

  “Like the one we witnessed with Yung Yi?”

  I nodded. Then I told him about Hank and Darian hooking up, Crusibella’s foray behind Hog Heaven, Alastair’s phony alibi, and Noah’s dubious reason for being in town.

  He stroked my hair. “When were you going to clue me in about your bicycle tires?”

  “Dad blabbed?”

  “When you and Lola went to the restroom.” His voice filled with tenderness. “Promise me you’ll track down Cinnamon tomorrow and tell her every theory and clue you have.”

  “I will.”

  “And now, back to us. What’s your decision?”

  Chapter 27

  “Yes,” I said. “Of course, yes, my darling man. You’ll be a brilliant chef. It was and is your dream. I’m one hundred percent on board.”

  He kissed me again, and we walked holding hands to Fisherman’s Village. He had parked there, as well. To make sure I arrived safely home, he followed me. When we climbed out of our respective vehicles, both of us laughed. True to her word, my aunt had hired a security guard. The bulky man was sitting in a chair on her porch. We introduced ourselves to him and then slipped into my cottage, kissed discreetly, and said good night.

  After Rhett drove off, I locked up the cottage and traipsed to bed. Feeling more secure than I had in days, I fell asleep with Tigger nestled at my feet. I didn’t awake until the alarm blared.

  With a spring in my step, I dressed to match my cheery mood in yellow capris and cropped sweater. That mood vanished when I strode into the shop with Tigger and found Pepper already there. The unadorned black pantsuit she was wearing did nothing for her ashen color, and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

  “I let her in,” Tina said from behind the sales counter. She, too, looked like she’d been through the wringer. Blotchy cheeks. Puffy eyes. Was heartache in the air? I hadn’t told her about seeing her boyfriend at the restaurant. Had someone else?

  “Jenna, I need you to do me a favor,” Pepper rasped.

  “Did you receive another email?” I asked as I set Tigger on the floor and gave his rear end a nudge.

  “No. It’s H-Hank.” Her voice caught. “I . . .” She studied her fingernails. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I followed him last night.” That might explain her covert-looking black getup and frazzled appearance. “He bailed on our date saying he wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t believe him.” She bit back a sob. “I saw him with Darian. In his car. They were kissing.” She smacked her hands together. “I knew it was her. I just knew it. I confronted her yesterday, but she denied it. To my face.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “I can’t ask my daughter to help me because I don’t want her to judge.”

  “She wouldn’t—”

  “She would. I love her, but she can be quite critical.”

  “I’m not sure I’m the right—”

  “Please. There’s more. My suspicions didn’t start with Darian. They began a week ago. Something didn’t feel right about Hank. He can be so aloof. One night at his house, he excused himself to take a phone call outside. I thought he was calling Ivy.”

  Uh-oh. I flashed on the honey phone call Katie had overheard.

  “While he was chatting, I gave in to m
y dark side. I snooped and found a number of future airplane tickets to Ohio.”

  “That doesn’t sound unusual. Hank travels to meet his suppliers.”

  “But his suppliers aren’t in Ohio. Not a one. I know because I asked. And these tickets”—she stabbed the air—“were scheduled every two weeks, like clockwork.”

  “He has children.”

  She nodded. “Two girls. At Vassar. That’s in New York.”

  “An aging parent?”

  “Both of his parents are deceased. However, his ex-wife lives in Ohio.” She sucked back another sob. “How could he reunite with her when we’re engaged?”

  “You aren’t officially engaged,” I said judiciously.

  “But we’re going to be. We went shopping for the ring.” She clasped my hand and held on tight. “I need you to come with me. As moral support. I want to question him.”

  “Pepper . . .”

  “Please. He’ll be at Great Threads. He always opens the shop by himself when he’s in town. He says he likes the quietude of morning.”

  I wrested free of Pepper’s grasp and hurried to Tina, who had rallied. Her tears were gone, her eyes clear and bright. She had been listening in and nodded yes, I could accompany Pepper. I promised we would talk about whatever had upset her when I returned. Tigger, like the good buddy he was, leaped onto the sales counter and nuzzled Tina under the chin.

  Minutes later, Pepper and I arrived at Great Threads. Hank was standing inside at the sales counter. Pepper tapped on the glass door. Hank caught sight of us and his jaw fell open. He began to blink rapidly. Either we’d startled him or he knew he’d been caught out.

  Recovering quickly, he smoothed his hair, donned the tweed jacket he’d draped over a hard-backed chair by the shelves of shirts, and strode to the door. “Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Pepper pressed passed him. “We need to talk.”

  “All of us?” he asked, eyeing me as I passed him.