Pepperoni Pizza Can Be Murder Page 8

He shrugged. “I don’t want to, believe me, but I keep coming back to the way she acted last night. The second she figured out that Wade had set her up, she had blood in her eyes.”

  “Who else makes the list?”

  “The only other person I can think of is Art Young.”

  “Why is that name familiar?” I asked.

  “He’s the one who loaned Wade money. From what I hear, he’s all kinds of trouble. What was my brother thinking? Why did he go to a thug like that to get cash?” Greg hung his head low. “Don’t answer that. I already know why. He wanted money from our grandparents’ estate, and I wouldn’t give it to him.”

  I took his face in my hands for a few seconds so that he couldn’t avoid looking at me. “Greg Hatcher, you’re not going to blame yourself for what happened, do you hear me? You didn’t kill your brother, not by trying to obey your grandparents’ wishes, or anything else.”

  “I just wish I believed that,” he said, hanging his head down.

  “I can’t do anything about that,” I said, my mind racing, trying to figure out how I could help him. A sudden question occurred to me.

  “Greg, where were you last night? Is there any chance you have an alibi?”

  He shook his head quickly. “No, nobody would believe me, and I don’t have any way of proving it.”

  “Why? Where were you?”

  “I was asleep in Josh Hurley’s basement. He let me in after his folks went to bed, and I crashed there. I do that sometimes, since he’s a friend of mine.”

  “Why didn’t you just go back to your apartment?” As I asked him the question, I realized that if he had, he would most likely be sitting in a jail cell right now.

  Greg hesitated, then looked down at his hands as he explained, “I didn’t want to be alone. Josh is one of my best friends, and I didn’t know who else to ask. I know, it’s pretty crappy as alibis go.”

  “Josh didn’t bunk down there with you, did he?”

  Greg shook his head. “No, as soon as I got settled in on the couch, he headed up to his room.” Greg smiled, but there was no mirth in it. “Funny to think that the police chief was looking for me all over Timber Ridge, and I was sound asleep in his basement. Luckily, I got out of there before he found me. I was getting dressed to go back to my place when I heard it on the radio.” He bit his lip, and it looked as though he was fighting back tears. After a few seconds, Greg said, “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as I patted his cheek. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help find his killer?”

  Greg looked at me with a wide open expression. “Are you going to try to find the murderer yourself? It’s too dangerous, Eleanor, I can’t let you do it.”

  I wasn’t sure how he thought he could stop me, but it was a noble thought. “Don’t worry, I won’t be alone. I’m sure Maddy will want to help out, too.”

  “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better? I’m going to find out what happened to him myself.”

  “That’s going to be tough, with the police looking everywhere for you. You lift your head up in plain sight—the next thing you know, you’re going to be in jail. Leave it to Maddy and me. We’ve done this before, remember?”

  I was about to say something else when I heard a car pull up in my driveway. “Hang on a second.”

  I glanced out the window and saw Kevin Hurley getting out of his squad car. Before he could make it to the first step, I rushed back into the kitchen.

  “It’s the police,” I said. “Greg, do you know what’s going to happen to me if Kevin Hurley finds you here?”

  “I know. You’ll be in the cell next to mine. I shouldn’t have come. I just didn’t know where else to turn.” He looked as though he was going to cry. “I don’t have anything. I’m flat broke, and the cops are looking everywhere for me.”

  Rapidly I said, “Greg, I have a rainy-day fund I keep in my Garfield cookie jar.” I figured there was about two hundred dollars there. I knew it wasn’t much, but it was the best I could do on the spur of the moment. I looked out the window into the sunny day as I added, “And from where I’m standing, it’s pouring outside right now for you.”

  “I won’t take money from you,” Greg said.

  “And I probably can’t give you any without being accused of aiding and abetting a felon. That doesn’t mean you can’t borrow it yourself and pay me back later.” The front doorbell rang, and I added, “I have to go answer the door. I’ll be right back.” I shoved the cookie jar, with Garfield’s prominent ginger belly, toward him.

  Before I left, I paused under the archway between the kitchen and the dining room. “Greg, if you’re still here when I get back, I won’t be able to help you,” I said softly. “So unless you’re ready to turn yourself in after all, I’d take off if I were you.”

  “I don’t really have much choice, do I?” he said, and I wished I could see even the slightest ray of hope in his eyes.

  “If you want to stay in touch, my answering machine might make a good place to leave me a message.” I leaned forward and patted his cheek. “Be safe, Greg.”

  The doorbell rang again, and I went out to talk to the chief of police.

  I just hoped Greg was gone by the time I got back.

  “Good morning,” I said as I finally opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch. I’d made Kevin Hurley ring it three times, and he was about to head for my backyard when I walked outside.

  “That took you long enough,” he grumbled.

  “I had a late night, remember?”

  “At least you’ve been to bed,” the police chief said.

  He had a right to be grumpy, but that didn’t mean I had to mollify him. “What can I do for you, Chief?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee,” he said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t wave good-bye to a piece of toast,” I replied, still standing between him and my front door.

  He looked at me, clearly perplexed, a state I often created in him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I thought we were saying what we wouldn’t do to inanimate objects. I wouldn’t wink at a sprinkler, either.”

  He shook his head, dropping that particular line of conversation. I wasn’t just being silly. I was trying to buy Greg time to get as far away from my house as he could. Just because I had to tell the police chief he’d been there, I didn’t have to make it any easier for him. Or did I have to tell him after all? It was possible that I could leave Greg out of it entirely. Kevin might think I was lying about harboring Greg for even a moment, but it was nothing he’d ever be able to prove.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “I want to talk to you, too. Can I have my pizzeria back?” I asked, carefully blocking his way inside.

  Kevin looked around us, and we both saw Mr. Harpold watching us from his front lawn. He’d been standing at his mailbox the entire time the squad car had been there. When he saw us looking back at him, he didn’t even pretend not to be watching. “Eleanor, do you really want to do this out here?”

  “I suppose not,” I said. I’d stalled as long as I could. Greg had to be gone by now. If he wasn’t, it was on his own head. “Come on in. I’ll start a fresh batch of coffee.”

  He nodded thankfully, and we walked inside. I looked back at Mr. Harpold, who waved at me like he was a kid watching a parade.

  I managed to stay in front of Kevin, but I still couldn’t slow him from getting into my kitchen.

  “What happened here?” he said as soon as he saw the open window and the footprints on the floor.

  “What are you talking about?” I pretended to see the kitchen in a state of disarray for the first time. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what I want to know.” He approached the footprints, but he was careful not to step in them. As he knelt down beside one, I noticed that there were two mugs of coffee on the counter. If he saw them, Kevin would know that I’d talked with someone—most likely Greg—which
would kill the story I was going to try to sell him that this was all news to me. I moved quickly behind him and put one mug in the sink before he could spot it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked me. Apparently I wasn’t as stealthy as I’d hoped.

  I had two choices. I could lie, or I could tell the truth.

  I decided to lie. “It looks like somebody got into my cookie jar,” I said.

  “Don’t touch that,” he said as I picked up the lid against his orders. “Nice job, Eleanor. You probably just ruined the finger-prints on it.”

  That had been my intention all along. “Sorry. It’s just a habit of mine to straighten things up.”

  “What’s in there?” he asked as he looked at the jar.

  I lifted the lid and looked inside. It was nice to be able to tell the truth at least once during our conversation. “Nothing but dust,” I said.

  He shook his head, and then turned to the window and looked out. “There are footprints in your flower bed,” he said. I watched him scan the yard, and then he added, “Whoever was here is long gone.”

  “I can’t believe someone broke into my home,” I said, trying not to ham it up too much. “So much for our Neighborhood Watch. Where’s Mr. Harpold when I need him?”

  “Watching us out front, probably. This didn’t happen too long ago.” He studied the window, and then said, “This wasn’t even locked. There’s no sign of forced entry.”

  “I felt like a morning breeze,” I lied. “I was just finishing my coffee when I had to answer the doorbell. Someone must have taken my absence as an open invitation.”

  “It was Greg, wasn’t it?” Kevin asked, staring hard at me. “He was here.”

  “How should I know? I was out front talking to you, remember?”

  “Eleanor, you’re not helping the kid by keeping him from me, you know that, don’t you?”

  I worked up a little insincere indignation. “Search my house if you don’t believe me. Greg’s not here.”

  “Probably not now, but he was. Go ahead, deny it.”

  “I’m not going to stand here in my own kitchen and listen to you accuse me of things you have absolutely no proof of. You need to leave.”

  He didn’t even look surprised by my outburst. “What happened to my coffee?”

  “I hear they have a mean brew down at Emily’s Coffee Shop,” I said.

  “Be careful, Eleanor. This isn’t a game, and the quicker you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”

  “Have a nice day, Chief,” I said.

  He finally took the hint, then tarried at the door. “You want to file a police report on your break-in?”

  “I don’t see the need,” I said. “Nothing’s missing. I’ll be more careful about unlocked windows in the future.”

  “You do that,” he said.

  I watched him leave, and after I was sure he was gone, I called out, “Greg? Greg? Are you still here?”

  Thankfully, there was no answer. I wiped off the windowsill, swept up the dirt on the floor, and rinsed the coffee mugs. In three minutes, it was impossible to tell that Greg had ever been there.

  But Kevin knew.

  And I didn’t even care.

  It was clear our police chief was focusing his attention on my deliveryman, and if he was wasting his time doing that, he wasn’t out searching for the real killer.

  That meant that Maddy and I were going to have to do it ourselves, or Greg wouldn’t stand a chance. He couldn’t stay underground long on the money he’d borrowed from me, and there weren’t that many places that he could hide in Timber Ridge.

  Chapter 5

  “Wake up,” I told Maddy when she finally answered her telephone. “We have things to do today.”

  “Eleanor, why are you calling me on the phone? Aren’t you still here at the apartment?”

  This wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. “I’m standing in my kitchen. I came home to take a shower and change clothes. While I was here, you’ll never believe who popped in.”

  “It’s not that tough to guess,” she said. “I’m willing to bet that our chief of police came calling on you.”

  “He did, but that was later,” I said.

  “Who came sooner, then?”

  “Greg Hatcher,” I replied.

  That got her attention. “Greg was there? What did he say? Did Kevin catch him with you? What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you,” I said, “as soon as I pick you up. Can you be ready and standing out in front of your place in ten minutes?”

  “Come on, tell me now,” she said. “It’s not fair making me wait.”

  “No, I know you. If I tell you everything that happened with Greg and Kevin, you’ll just crawl back into bed, and you can’t do that, not today.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Fine, go ahead,” I said. “I’ll just follow the leads Greg gave me about his brother’s murder by myself. Sorry I bothered you. I’ll give you a call tonight if I get the chance.”

  I hesitated an instant, then hung up.

  Three seconds later, Maddy called back. “Okay, that is not very nice—you know that, don’t you?”

  “What can I say? I learned some of my best tricks from my little sister.”

  “I resent that remark,” she said.

  “I don’t blame you, I’d resent it, too. The question is, are you willing to deny it?”

  “You win. I’ll be out front. Give me fifteen minutes, though.”

  I looked at my watch. “Starting right now. The timer’s on.”

  She hung up without even saying good-bye. It might have been cruel of me to hold back the information I’d just gotten from Greg, but it was the only way I could be sure that Maddy would join me in my investigation. And there was no way I was going to snoop around today by myself. A killer was out there somewhere in Timber Ridge, and I didn’t want to face whoever it was alone.

  As good as her word, Maddy was out front when I got to her apartment complex. As she got into my car, she asked, “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting like three minutes.”

  “Sorry for the inconvenience,” I said, though it was pretty clear to both of us that I wasn’t sorry at all. “I had to get gas before I picked you up.”

  “It sounds like we’re going on a road trip,” she said. “Where did you have in mind? If you need suggestions, I’ve got a dozen good ideas.”

  “We’re not out on a lark, remember?”

  “Absolutely, but I wasn’t sure you did. What did Greg tell you?”

  “For starters, he gave me a number of suspects he came up with overnight. At the top of his list is Wade’s girlfriend, Sandi Meadows. Evidently, she’s the jealous type, and she has a temper, too. Then there’s Katy Johnson.”

  “Greg thinks his girlfriend might have killed his brother? That’s kind of Shakespearian, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “He said Katy was capable of it, and I tend to believe him.”

  “So far, we’ve got two women as our suspects. Were there any men who hated Wade enough to kill him?”

  I started driving. “Greg said a man named Art Young could have done it. Wade owed him money.”

  Maddy whistled. “You’re kidding me, right? Was Wade really that stupid?”

  “So you’ve heard of him?”

  Maddy nodded. “Bob told me about him a few months ago. He was going to represent the man in a civil suit, but the case was suddenly dropped at the last second, and Art tried to get out of paying him the full amount he owed. This from a guy with illegal loans out all over our part of North Carolina, and who knows what else he’s into. Bob said that Art has never been formally arrested, but he’s come awfully close a few times.”

  “He sounds like a real prince,” I said. “I can’t wait to talk to him.”

  “Hang on a second, Eleanor. Are you serious? We’re going to question him about Wade’s murder?”

  I glanced at my sister. “We can’t really be that choosy about our suspects, can we?”
I thought about it a second, then added, “Maybe we’ll see if Bob will tag along with us when we talk to him. Do you think he’d do it?”

  “For me? I think so,” Maddy said. Bob had a never-ending crush on Maddy, and she wasn’t beyond taking advantage of it when it suited her.

  She looked out the front windshield, and then she asked, “Hey, I don’t mean to be nosy, but where are we going?”

  “I thought we might have a chat with Wade’s neighbors to see if they noticed anything odd over the last few nights.”

  “He was killed at the Slice,” Maddy reminded me, as if I needed that particular fact refreshed in my mind.

  “Trust me, I didn’t forget,” I said. “But if Wade’s neighbors are anything like mine, someone might have seen something.”

  “What are we going to do, just start ringing doorbells?”

  I grinned. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  We pulled up in front of Wade’s place, and I reached in back for something I’d brought from the house.

  “A clipboard?” Maddy asked when she saw me bring it forward. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “This is just to get a foot in the door,” I said.

  “So, what are we doing, getting petitions to banish the letter Q from the English language, or are we trying to free Willy’s little brother?”

  “Nothing as dramatic as that,” I said. “We’re going to circulate a petition to create a Neighborhood Watch group in the area. That should give us a perfect segue into asking about Wade, and talking about what might have led to his murder. Are you in?”

  “Have I ever said no to you?” she asked.

  “More times than I can count,” I said.

  “Don’t be so nitpicky,” Maddy said. “It’s unbecoming.” We got out of the car when we neared his place, and as we started for Wade’s closest neighbor, my sister added, “Actually, this is pretty good. I’m impressed with your imagination, Eleanor.”

  “I was trying to think about what might work to get us the answers we need, and I kept coming back to this.”

  Before we could get to the first front door, Maddy said, “Let me see the clipboard before we ring the bell.”