Chapter Twenty-Three
WHATEVER BUSINESS EDNA AND CORBIN WERE INTO, THE SHERIFF WAS in on it.
He had to be. How else had Cordelia’s photos been deleted?
She double-checked her recently deleted folder and the cloud, but they were all gone.
While Cordelia didn’t particularly like the sheriff, she thought he was like any other bumbling local lawman.
But this went to a level much higher than any of them had been anticipating. It was one thing to piss off the Abernathys—practically everyone in town had done so at one point or another. If the sheriff was stepping into the muck though? There had to be greater forces at play.
And all signs were pointing to Sean O’Leary.
As much as Cordelia hated to give Honey the benefit of the doubt on anything, she’d been pretty adamant about the Abernathys’ connection to the shady businessman. That wasn’t the kind of accusation people threw around lightly.
As Cordelia drove them home from the police station after getting her car out of impound, they’d all agreed that a trip to Benedict’s was in order.
Cordelia had a hankering for pancakes and trouble that could not be ignored.
Maybe she’d even get a glass of Dew Valley to celebrate their near escape from serious consequences of breaking the law.
After they slept off the dregs of their action-packed evening, they woke up early to get a jump on the morning traffic.
Despite being questionably owned, Benedict’s was an extremely popular breakfast restaurant.
Pickup trucks lined the lot, with overflow parking along the side streets.
Cordelia hadn’t seen bumper-to-bumper traffic like that since the last county fair.
She hoped the food was just that good, but it more than likely had to do with the fact that a person could get good and drunk at ten in the morning at an otherwise dry time of day.
If growing up with her momma had taught Cordelia nothing else, it was that the best cure for a hangover appeared to be a lot more alcohol.
“I don’t see why I had to go fancy for this.” Daisy pulled the leopard-print caftan away from her skin like the sheer amount of fabric offended her. “It ain’t church.”
“Because it’s a classy joint and we’re damn well going to look like we fit in,” Belinda Sue said. She wore a floral caftan, another item borrowed from Arline.
One of these days Cordelia would have to take them shopping for proper dresses.
Walking around in what amounted to colorful nightgowns didn’t exactly scream classy either, but it beat the hot pants and leather.
Cordelia opted for a plum pantsuit, which went well with her coloring, but in hindsight probably looked like she was just missing her feathered fedora and chinchilla stole, so who was she to speak on class?
On the way to Benedict’s, Daisy leaned forward and stuck her head between the driver’s side and front passenger seats. “Here’s what I don’t get, and I turned this over in my mind all night. Why didn’t Edna press charges?”
No one had a clear answer for that, though it weighed heavily on Cordelia’s mind as well.
Arline said it was because she didn’t want to be pressured about why they broke into their compound in the first place, but that didn’t ring true.
Especially now that they knew the sheriff was in on their dealings.
It couldn’t have been to save face either, since the Abernathys had been warring with half the town for as far back as their name graced the oldest tombs in the cemetery, so what was Edna up to?
She didn’t make moves like that without cause.
They found a spot just after seven. To their dismay, it hadn’t been in the packed parking lot, so they had to do some walking, to which Arline made several pointed complaints.
Daisy’s hair began to wilt as the high morning sun burned the dew off the scrub grass, and she patted the styled bouffant with nervous hands.
She didn’t need to worry though. Benedict’s was three towns over, and Sarsaparilla Falls had the Eagle Cafe for locals, so it was unlikely anyone they knew would be present, but it still felt as if a spotlight was on them.
Of course, they tended to draw attention no matter where they went, but Cordelia couldn’t help but remain on high alert as they crossed into enemy territory.
Daisy smoothed down the front of her caftan. “This feels worse than when we walked into church. At least then we knew everyone was going to be staring at us.”
So it wasn’t just Cordelia’s so-called paranoia at play.
Daisy was feeling an abnormal number of eyes on them, too, and she had an impeccable sense of perception, which made Cordelia feel infinitely better.
Archer’s comment had wormed its way into her head, and she didn’t care to feel as if he’d one-upped her in any way.
Cordelia took Daisy’s hands to stop her fidgeting. “You look fine. And we belong here, same as anyone else who wants a shot of whiskey with their eggs.”
Normally, they wouldn’t have much cared if anyone thought they belonged or not.
The chicks had always been their own women who did as they pleased.
But their reason for coming to this place had a little more meaning than snubbing their noses at the traditionalists.
It would be better for all involved if they didn’t stick out so much.
“What’s the plan here?” Belinda Sue asked. “Like, theoretically, I know why we’re here, but what is it we’re hoping to get done today?”
“For now, we’re just observing,” Cordelia said. “Take note of the staff. See if they defer to anyone in particular. See if there are any men in expensive suits who look like they’re commanding the room.”
Cordelia thought it would be best to start with just getting a face to go with the name Sean O’Leary, so they would be aware if he approached any of them.
If she had to put money on it, she’d bet Sean was the man she’d seen Edna talking to outside the library.
But she didn’t want to leave something that important to a gut instinct, and Google had been most unhelpful.
He appeared to keep a low profile. He wasn’t even listed as the owner of the restaurants Honey had mentioned.
Both of them were owned by different companies, which were also owned by other companies, screaming red flags in Cordelia’s mind.
Inside, they put their name in with the hostess and took a seat in the overflowing waiting area after Arline shamed a group of younger women into giving up their bench.
Cordelia took a moment to make note of the décor, gaudy in a new money sort of way.
Gold trim around everything, indoor waterfall, abstract art on the brick walls. Not enough exits.
Nearly an hour later, the waitress sat them at a circular red-velvet booth surrounded by curved shiplap walls.
Despite the early hour, low lighting offered a certain ambiance to the place.
All the windows were covered with thick velvet curtains, blocking out any sunlight that would’ve killed the serious mood.
Or allowed anyone passing by to see what was going on inside.
“Is it just me, or is this place better suited for romantic dinners than breakfast?” Daisy asked. “Who wants bacon and eggs by candlelight?”
Apparently, a lot of people. Cordelia took in what little of the surroundings she could see with privacy walls blocking each individual dining table, but most of the patrons appeared to be normal customers.
If Benedict’s was truly a front for illegal activities, would they try so hard to be legit?
Or had their popularity been purely by accident? Texans did love their kitsch.
“I’m going to the bathroom, see if I can get a better look around.” Cordelia scooched out of the booth. “Order me an orange juice and a glass of the Dew Valley.”
She didn’t have any intention of getting tipsy, but she wanted to taste the wine. Get a feel for what made it so special. She figured the more information they were armed with, the better chance they’d have of solving this murder before someone pinned it on Daisy.
As Cordelia made her way to the back of the restaurant, no one paying her much mind, she spotted Stella and Gladys sharing a private moment in a booth.
Stella turned her head and Cordelia dove behind a potted plant.
The last thing she wanted was to be spotted by a local and have to answer questions about what she was doing there.
Cordelia spread the thick, waxy leaves apart and peered between them.
Stella and Gladys sat on the same side of the booth, shoulders touching, sharing an intimate laugh together.
It struck Cordelia with the force of a brick to the face.
How had she not seen it before? Stella and Gladys weren’t gal pals. They were lovers.
No wonder Stella hadn’t minded if the pastor spent time with Daisy.
Cordelia didn’t condone cheating, but was it really cheating if both parties consented?
Stella certainly didn’t look worse off for it.
In fact, she had a glow of happiness around her that had been noticeably absent in Cordelia’s youth.
She should’ve known the first time she ran into her in the library.
Women could smell joy on each other like bees could smell fear.
Not wanting to interrupt, Cordelia eased her way around the plant and hurried to the bathroom.
There was no sense in letting Stella know she’d seen her.
There was a reason why they’d come all the way out here for breakfast, and Cordelia had no interest in putting Stella in an awkward position.
She had more respect for her elders than that.
As she passed by the kitchen, the door swung open and a man came storming out. He bumped Cordelia’s shoulder roughly, sending her careening backward.
“Pardon me.” The man had a thick Irish accent. He grabbed both her arms to steady her, and getting a good look at his face, Cordelia felt her blood drain down to her toes.
It was the man with the ill-fitting tan suit, though he wore a closely fitted navy today.
The man Edna had been talking to outside the library.
His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned on his features.
Cordelia didn’t need a formal introduction to know she was staring straight into the flat eyes of Sean O’Leary.
His hair was thinner on top than on the sides, with that glaring bald patch she remembered. His thin nose was dotted with the remnants of bologna-colored freckles that had faded to blend in with his ruddy complexion. An old scar marked his chin, cutting a line across the cleft.
His eyes were his most disconcerting feature, so light they were nearly translucent, with the whites threaded with broken blood vessels. But it wasn’t the coloring so much as the absolute chill emanating from them. The kind of cold usually reserved for the deepest parts of the ocean.
“I’m s-sorry.” Cordelia stumbled over her words, grasping for a smooth exit.
Sean kept his hands on her, his fingers flexing against the material of her jacket.
He eyed her like a teacher assessing his pupil, as if debating how many whacks with a ruler he should dole out.
The last thing she wanted was to get on this man’s radar, but it didn’t seem as though she could avoid it, given his interest in the Chickadee.
“I’m just . . .” Cordelia pointed toward the bathroom. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course.” Sean dropped his hands like she had burned him, but his eyes tracked her pale features and quivering upper lip. Being openly terrified out of her mind was not the best way to go about being inconspicuous.
Cordelia began to hustle away, but a finger snap drew her attention back to Sean.
“I hope you’re here simply to enjoy a fine breakfast, Miss West, and not for any other reason. I’d hate to think you were checking up on me.” Sean dipped his chin and gave her a knowing smile that didn’t reach his near-lifeless eyes.
Cordelia’s pulse rang in her ears as all thoughts emptied from her head. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“Not cordially, no. But your sheriff is an old acquaintance of mine, and I like to keep an eye on my business interests.”
“Respectfully, we don’t, nor will we ever, have business in common. If you’ll excuse me.” She turned around and prided herself on keeping her cool until she reached the bathroom. Shutting the door, she leaned against it and held a hand over her racing heart.
How much attention had he been paying to the Chickadee?
Had he recognized her that day outside the library?
And just how deep did his association with Sarsaparilla Falls go?
Once again, Cordelia cursed the sheriff for deleting the warehouse pictures off her phone.
If only she’d taken a little more time to read the documents as she sifted through them.
Cordelia splashed cool water over her face and peeked her head out the door.
The private dining alcoves made it impossible to get a full view of the restaurant.
Tiptoeing her way back into the dining room, she took the long way around to avoid Stella and Gladys.
Sean wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She should’ve been relieved, but the unknown engendered fear.
At the table, Daisy slid over to make room for Cordelia and held up her menu. “What do you think sounds better, an omelet or French toast?”
“Either is fine.” Cordelia peered around the alcove wall, but the aisles between tables were clear save for a single waitress bringing coffee around. “But I think we should go.”
“Go?” Daisy dropped her menu. “What on earth for?”
“I’m not going anywhere until I get my steak and eggs,” Arline said.
“It’s not safe.” Cordelia couldn’t be certain of Sean’s intentions, but she wasn’t willing to stick around and risk a poisoning.
“Of course it is.” Daisy gave her a pitying smile. “Look how busy it is. No one’s going to hurt us out here in the open.” Daisy pulled out a penny. “Heads omelet, tails French toast.” She flipped the coin and squealed with delight when it landed on tails.
Belinda Sue leaned forward and cupped the side of her mouth. “Don’t look now, but I think I’ve spotted our suspect.”
“Have you met him before?” Cordelia’s temper flared. It was one thing to issue thinly veiled threats to her, but he better not dare mess with her chicks. “Has he hassled you?”
“No, momma bear. Settle down.” Daisy patted her hand and nudged Belinda Sue with her elbow. “But it’s not hard to pick him out of this crowd, considering he’s the one staring daggers into the back of your head.”