Chapter 9
After getting Beth settled in her happy place, I went into town and the business district.
The California Central Coast Family Project was housed in an older building next to the courthouse.
They were the last stop for kids before they got sent to a foster family.
The charity tried to replace some of what got left behind when they were taken away from their parents.
The building also had family rooms where parents could have supervised time with their kids, based on the court order and the situation.
This was one part of family law I didn’t miss.
I’d made the original suggestion to consider the group when Carrie was looking for a community project to support for the holidays.
I still had friends in the legal field, even though most of them either thought I was crazy for giving up my law practice or felt envious that I stepped away.
Christmas music filled the cozy lobby as I walked inside.
A desk sat in the waiting room and the woman working on a laptop looked up.
“If it isn’t our favorite bookseller. I didn’t think I’d see you here.
I thought you were delegating. What? Is the trip back in time too much?
You should come back to family law. You were one of the best.”
I’d hoped that the stop to the charity would be fast. Unfortunately, the woman greeting me knew me and my history too well. “Selma, what are you doing working? I thought you would be in Central America on your annual migration.”
“I finished visiting all the Central American countries last year. I’m heading to Peru next week, so I told them I’d work the desk until I left on Monday.
I should bring you back something as a reward for sponsoring this event.
Are you guys in it for next year too? Nancy’s already counting your donations into her budget.
” Selma Woods loved life. She traveled almost as much as Judith and still held a full-time job as a social worker.
She’d helped with several of my more involved cases during my lawyer days.
“I’m glad Angie just took a break or I would have missed seeing you. You look good. Happy.”
“I’m great.” I caught Selma up on my life, including the recent marriage.
Then I handed her the jar of money. “I’m just the bookstore owner.
The book club determines what agency they’re going to support.
But I’m sure they’ll keep you guys in mind.
We had a few late donations along with the money from the bookstore collection jar. ”
“Thanks. The women who brought the toys and cash a few days ago said there might be more coming in from South Cove, but I never expected this much.” Selma handed the jar over to a young girl who’d come out of the back.
“Please count this and then give Mrs. King a receipt. Come in and sit down for a bit while we wait for Katie to finish that.”
“I really don’t need a receipt,” I tried to say, but she waved my words away and motioned me inside her office.
“Nancy wanted me to talk to you about the unfortunate incident that happened after the event. We try to stay away from events attached to drinking or gambling for just this reason.” Selma looked embarrassed to be bringing up the issue.
“You’ve had murders happen during events?” I didn’t like the way this was going one bit.
“No, I mean we’ve never had this kind of situation. She wanted me to ask if maybe next year the event could be sponsored by a different organization. Like maybe the local diner. Or a jewelry shop.”
“I’m sure Chip’s won’t be sponsoring next year since the owner is dead, but sure, we’ll be more discreet on who we let donate to the kids.” I hoped I wasn’t sounding as snarky as I felt.
Katie walked in and handed me the receipt. “With what Carrie brought in on Sunday, you guys are our largest donors this season. South Cove donated over twenty thousand dollars this year. That will be tough to match next year.”
I stared at the receipt. When Carrie and I’d talked, she thought we could bring in about five from the tournament, if we were lucky. Where did the other thirteen thousand come from?
As I got into the Jeep and drove away from the charity, I called Greg. “Hey, something’s up with the money.”
“Our budget? Did I go over on food? I’m sorry. I ordered for the department the last two days, but Amy will reimburse us on the next check.” He sounded distracted.
“No, not our budget.” I explained how the donation exceeded our wildest dreams.
“What’s the lady in charge’s name again? I think I’m about to ruin her Christmas.”
“You think it’s why Chip was killed?”
“Not talking about that, but you probably should leave before I make my phone call. They might start to yell at you.”
After putting my phone away, I drove off to Doc Ames’s funeral home.
I’d checked, and he didn’t have any upcoming funerals, so hopefully he’d be doing paperwork in his office rather than down in his basement where he prepped the bodies for burial.
I didn’t want to even try to visit him there.
Even if he didn’t have a current customer, I had too good of an imagination to visit that room.
The front door was open, and as I wandered through the red velvet lobby with polished wood everything, I got a chill. I turned to see nothing, but I felt someone standing behind me. My imagination must be on overdrive. I knocked and opened the door. “Doc?”
“Come in, my dear. I’ve been expecting you.” He stood and poured me a coffee. “I know it’s late, but coffee goes so well with Sadie’s cookies. Did you bring oatmeal? They’re my favorite.”
“I don’t think you told me that before.” I handed him the bag of cookies and took the offered cup. I hoped I’d be able to sleep tonight. “I think there’s a few oatmeal in there. I’ll make sure next time.”
“Your husband is going to read me the riot act if I keep letting you pry information out of me with cookies.” He grinned and held one up. “But it will be worth the beatdown for these.”
I decided to get right to the punch. “So what do you know about Chip?”
“He drank too much, smoked too much, and would have been dead from lung cancer in six months. It was a horrible way to go, but someone just shortened his misery. He was walking to an early grave all on his own.”
“Sad. I wonder if Chris knew.”
“Chris was back in his life? Man, I thought she had said goodbye for good the last time when she caught him with that blonde from Bakerstown. He didn’t understand the premise of monogamy.”
“I’d heard they were on-again, off-again types.” I was the opposite. I was a one-man woman until I said, “Enough.” Then there was no looking back. Just ask my first husband.
Doc grabbed a second cookie. “He was flaky. Chris loved him since high school. I graduated the same year as Chip. Chris was a freshman when we were seniors. She fell hard and never gave up hope. True love, at least on her part. Chip, he liked the variety. But he had a soft spot for Chris.”
I sipped my coffee. “Doc? Would Chris have killed him? Maybe a mercy killing?”
He shook his head. “One, I don’t think she could have done it.
Chris would have dragged him to doctors all over the country to save him.
And two, she isn’t strong enough to have put the steel-tip darts so far into his body.
He was tortured. The killer wanted something and I don’t know if they got it. Chip could be stubborn.”
After leaving the funeral home, I thought about what Doc had said.
The dart throwing had been playing with Chip.
Making him hurt until he told them what they wanted to know.
Then they’d started using the knives. Chip had bled out long after they’d left him tied up in that back room.
Too tired and weak to even try to escape.
I wondered if he’d hoped that someone would come looking for him.
Chris was tucked in her bed at home, thinking he was home in his apartment above the bar.
No one would have even been at the bar that morning except for Chris and Carrie, who were planning on taking the money and the toys to the charity.
He could have been there until the bar reopened on Tuesday night.
It sounded like the killing had been planned. But by whom?
* * *
The next morning, Beth chatted about her research and a new source she’d found as we made breakfast. She was continuing the conversation she’d started while we made dinner last night. I went to bed as soon as the kitchen was cleaned.
I must have nodded or commented enough that she kept talking, but by the time dinner was over, I was bone tired. It must have been from working that morning.
“Thanks for letting me use your office. My apartment’s so small that I’ve been using my dining room table. I feel like I’ve been upgraded.” She refilled Emma’s water dish as we talked. “I want to turn the third bedroom in Jim’s house into a den when we get married. If we get married.”
“Don’t give up on him yet. He really can’t be that stupid to let a little thing like you working stop you two from being together. And if he does, he doesn’t deserve you.” I sat down with my bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Having Beth around was way healthier for me. I might just keep her here.
“You would think that he’d be used to me being independent and strong-willed.
When Amanda was sick, he wanted to hire a nurse for her.
I told him he was crazy and I’d do it. I took leave from the church and just worked on my degree back then.
Huh, I’d forgotten, but Les wasn’t happy when I did that either.
I wonder if Les is pressuring Jim more than helping him discern our situation. ”
“Your pastor wouldn’t do that, would he?” I didn’t have a lot of experience with churches, well, at least those that weren’t cults like the one that had moved into South Cove last year.