Chapter Seventeen
Audrey wove through The Chowder House restaurant with practiced ease, balancing trays laden with plates of pancakes and scrambled eggs while tossing out quick smiles to regulars.
Isabella was at the coffee station, her ponytail bouncing as she poured refill after refill.
Although relatively busy, there were half as many customers seated today as during a typical breakfast rush.
Ethel’s business had certainly taken a hit from the chowder scandal.
The door jingled, and Audrey glanced up to see Evan Barker stroll in, wearing that insufferable smirk that set her teeth on edge. He approached Ethel at the hostess stand with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he owned the place.
“Good morning, Ethel,” he said. “Seat me in Audrey’s section, would you?”
Ethel arched an unimpressed brow. “You sure about that, honey? She’s very busy, you might have to wait a bit.”
Evan grinned. “That’s all right. I’m a patient man.”
Audrey’s stomach sank as Ethel led him to a table near the window. She sighed and steeled herself, marching over to his table with her notepad in hand. “What can I get you?”
“Actually,” Evan said, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers on the table, “I was hoping we could talk. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot the other day.”
Audrey pressed her lips together. “The special is a Western omelet with hash browns and your choice of toast, bagel, or blueberry muffin. Want that, or should I give you more time?”
Evan’s grin widened, and she swore he was enjoying this. “Hmm, I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”
“I recommend deciding before lunch,” she snapped. “Look, I don’t have time for small talk. If you want to eat, order. If you want to chat, find someone else.”
“Wow,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
“I’ll give you more time to decide,” Audrey snapped, rolling her eyes and walking off, muttering to Isabella, “Tag, you’re it. I’m taking my break.”
Isabella groaned but took over the table, leaving Audrey to retreat to the break room just off the kitchen. She flopped into a chair, rubbing her temples. A few minutes later, Ethel peeked in.
“What’s up, kiddo?” Ethel asked. “You’re not usually this ruffled.”
Audrey let out a long sigh. “It’s Evan. He’s … I don’t know. He gives me the willies. The way he looks at me, toys with me, it’s like he’s up to something.”
Ethel folded her arms. “You know we’ve got that sign by the door: WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE. Want me to toss his butt to the curb?”
Audrey shook her head. “No. It’ll probably just make things worse.”
After a few minutes, Audrey steeled herself and returned to the floor, determined to power through. She avoided Evan’s table, letting Isabella handle him, but her resolve wavered when Isabella stormed into the kitchen, fuming.
“That guy is impossible!” Isabella hissed. “He’s complained about everything—the coffee’s cold, there’s a smudge on his fork, and he’s run me ragged with his ‘special requests.’”
Audrey sighed. “I’ll deal with him.”
Walking over to Evan’s table, Audrey slapped the check down in front of him. “You’re done.”
Evan raised an eyebrow. “How do you know I’m done eating?”
“Because I said so,” Audrey shot back. “I took the coffee off your bill, by the way. You’re welcome.”
Evan smirked, pulling a twenty from his wallet and tossing it on the table. “Keep the change.”
Audrey glanced at the bill—$19.17. A wave of irritation surged through her, but she held her tongue. “Have a nice day,” she said curtly, turning on her heel.
On his way out, Evan paused by Ethel. “You might want to warn your waitresses about their attitude.”
Ethel’s eyes narrowed. “I like my girls just the way they are. Now get lost.”
The rest of the shift passed without incident, but when Audrey stepped out into the alley to take a breather, she froze. Evan was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed like he’d been waiting for her.
“What do you want?” Audrey demanded, her voice sharp.
Evan pushed off the wall and stepped closer, his expression dark. “I know you’ve been poking around about Chips’s murder. And now you’re dragging my family into it. You need to back off.”
Audrey crossed her arms, standing her ground. “Why would my questions bother you unless you had something to hide?”
Evan’s face twisted in anger. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? The Barkers have weathered plenty of suspicion over the years. Whatever you think you know, it’s nothing. Just leave my parents out of it.”
Suspicion?
Regarding what?
Audrey’s mind raced.
What did he mean by that?
“Maybe it’s not your parents I’m interested in,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe it’s you.”
Evan’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, invading her space. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? The Barkers have dealt with a lot worse than some nosy little waitress. You don’t scare me.”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” Audrey shot back.
Evan’s face twisted with fury, and he took another step forward, forcing her to take a step back. “You have no idea who you’re messing with,” he hissed.
Before Audrey could respond, the back door swung open, and Jimmy stepped out with a stuffed plastic garbage bag slung over his shoulder. He paused, taking in the tense scene, and his expression darkened.
“Hey,” Jimmy said, tossing the bag into the dumpster. “Is everything okay here?”
Evan turned to Jimmy, his lip curling. “Stay out of this, kid.”
Jimmy didn’t flinch. “I was talking to Audrey.”
Evan stepped toward him, puffing himself up. “You think you can take me? I was a college wrestler. A boxer. You’re just some nobody busboy.”
Audrey moved between them, placing a hand on Jimmy’s chest. “Jimmy, it’s fine. He’s not worth it.”
But Jimmy didn’t back down. “If he’s bothering you, it’s worth it.”
Evan let out a bark of laughter. “You want to have a go? Let’s go.”
Jimmy stepped forward, and Evan gave him a shove. Audrey grabbed Jimmy’s arm, trying to pull him back, but he shook his head. “I’m fine, Audrey.”
“Back off, Evan,” Audrey said firmly. “Or I’m calling the cops.”
For a moment, Evan looked ready to throw a punch, but something in Jimmy’s steady gaze made him pause. He huffed, muttered a curse, and backed away.
“This isn’t over,” Evan said, pointing a finger at Audrey before stalking off.
Jimmy watched him go before turning to Audrey. “You okay?”
Audrey managed a shaky smile. “Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
Jimmy hesitated. “Do you, uh, maybe want to grab a coffee or something?”
Audrey gave him a grateful smile but shook her head. “Rain check? I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
At the library, Audrey approached the front desk, where Mrs. Whishaw was rearranging a stack of books. The librarian’s booming voice filled the room. “Well, hello there, Audrey! What can I do for you?”
Audrey winced at the volume, and she responded in a whisper. “I need access to the Halibut Cove Chronicle archives. Digital files, if you have them.”
Mrs. Whishaw clomped around the desk with all the subtlety of a marching band. “Follow me! Oh, and Betty!” She turned and hollered across the room at a woman whispering to her friend at a reading table. “This is a library! Please keep it down!”
Audrey stifled a laugh as Mrs. Whishaw led her to a computer and set her up with the database. “Happy digging!” she said, her voice echoing as she stomped away.
Once she was in the Chronicle files full of back issues going back decades, Audrey typed Barker into the search bar, and dozens of results popped up.
Bert Barker’s grandfather pulled over for a broken taillight in the Police Beat column.
A great-aunt called about a prowler, which turned out to be her cat knocking over the Christmas tree.
A second cousin who got a DUI while home from Bowdoin College.
Nothing earth-shattering. But as Audrey continued to scroll, one headline from the 1970s caught her eye: YOUNG LOCAL, BERT BARKER, EYED IN DISAPPEARANCE OF HALIBUT COVE MAN.
The byline was Lou Grady, and as Audrey read through the article, her heart raced.
The story detailed the disappearance of Rhonda Barker’s abusive ex-boyfriend, with suspicion falling on Bert Barker, who at the time was Rhonda’s current boyfriend, after a violent confrontation.
A potential witness, Griffin Mead, a teenager working for Rhonda’s father at the time, was reportedly interviewed but had claimed to know nothing.
Audrey needed more. She jotted down notes and headed to the Chronicle office, where she found Lou Grady, still behind his desk, pecking away at his keyboard.
“Lou,” she said, stepping into his cluttered office. “Got a minute?”
Lou looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “Audrey, come on in! What’s this about?”
Audrey explained what she’d found, and Lou leaned back in his chair, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face.
“Ah, the Barker story. That was my first big scoop. I was fresh out of the journalism program at University of Maine Orono, eager to make my mark. The whole town was buzzing about Rhonda’s ex-boyfriend vanishing into thin air. ”
“What do you remember about it?” Audrey asked, leaning forward.
Lou stroked his chin. “I remember interviewing Griffin Mead. He was just a kid, working odd jobs for Rhonda’s father. Said he didn’t know anything, but I always had my doubts. The cops never found a body, so the case went cold. But there were always whispers about what might’ve happened.”
Audrey’s mind spun. If Griffin had known something back then, could that knowledge have put him in danger now? And what about Chips? What had he stumbled onto that suddenly made him a target?
Lou leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “You think this ties back to Chips’s murder?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey admitted. “But I’m starting to think the Barkers have more skeletons in their closet than a reality star’s deleted Twitter history.”
Lou grinned. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a story. Keep me posted, will you?”
Audrey nodded, her thoughts racing as she left. She didn’t have all the pieces yet, but one thing was clear: she was getting closer to the truth—and the Barkers weren’t going to like it.