If Catfish Had Nine Lives (Country Cooking School Mystery) (12 page)

“Oh. No, I’ve never met Alicia. I’d like to, though. I bet she was something else,” Gram said.

“Let’s see what her letter says,” I said.

I pulled the paper out of the envelope, unfolded it and read:
“Dearest Mother, I just received your letter today and I must say that it has left me terribly frightened and concerned. Please don’t do anything rash. I know all about Daddy, but I also believe his cruelty is tied to his liquor. We knew to run away when he’d been drinking. Give me a chance to come home and see what I can do to help fix things. Please leave him if you need to, but please don’t do the dreadful thing you said you’re thinking of doing. You would break my heart and the hearts of my brother and sister. I’ll be there no later than February 16. I just need to get a few things put in order and make sure Harold and the girls can fend for themselves for a few weeks. All my love, Elizabeth.”

For a long moment, we were all silent. The letter required some digestion.

“Well, that
was
interesting,” Jake said.

“Considering what happened, it’s probably not good that letter wasn’t delivered, but I suppose that’s one way legends are made,” Gram finally said.

“True,” Jake said.

“So what do we do with this one?” I asked. “I can’t imagine giving this information to anyone.”

“It’s been a long time, Betts,” Gram said. “And we have to deliver it; there’s no question.”

“Yes. Thank you, Miz,” Joe said.

“I’ll be able to find a descendant easily. If I remember the story correctly, Elizabeth did come back to town, too late of course. But I don’t ever remember the stories mentioning that she sent a letter that her mother never received. Of course, like people dying or disappearing, that just happened back then. Letters didn’t always get delivered, or sometimes they were delayed by weather, illness, whatever. It wasn’t too much of a big deal.”

“But Elizabeth probably went back to her family—Harold and the girls.”

“No, she didn’t; that I know, too,” Jake said. “I don’t think they ever joined her in Broken Rope. I think she abandoned them.”

“Like Astin Reagal’s wife?” I said. The story was still fresh in my mind.

“No!” Joe exclaimed. “Astin’s wife didn’t leave him, did she?”

“Not really—she abandoned her son to look for him, though,” I said.

“I see.” Confusion rolled over Joe’s face, but only for an instant.

“What is it, Joe?” Gram asked.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m . . . I’m not sure. Maybe we’re just getting closer to the end of the letters. It seems like I’m remembering things. But not big things—just little unimportant things that bother me. I’m fine. Ignore me.”

I turned to Jake. “How quickly can you find a descendant? I’m sensing that it would be good to find one as fast as possible.”

“Why don’t you and Miz run down to Bunny’s for lunch and I’ll see what I can put together. I’ll call or join you. The ghosts are welcome to stay, of course.”

No one stayed with Jake as he got to work with his fast fingers over his computer keyboard. Gram led the way to Bunny’s, which was located at the end of the main thoroughfare. I followed her, and then Joe and his horse trotted behind.

Gram and I didn’t notice it until we arrived at Bunny’s and his wood smoke scent became strong, but Jerome had joined us, too. He had followed behind the horse.

“Hello, Jerome,” Gram said when he moved to the front of the line. She looked at me, and then at him again.

“Miz, always good to see you.”

“You, too, but you sure do seem to be visiting a lot.”

“I’m working on it,” I interjected, answering Gram’s tone and unspoken words about both Jerome’s and my behavior during those visits. Gram and Jerome both knew that I was working on figuring out how to keep my friendship with Jerome strictly friendly, not romantic. I didn’t sense that Jerome wanted to work on the same issues from his end, but he didn’t have another significant other to think about. How we managed whatever relationship we were destined to have, the details would be up to me.

“Well, that’s a good start.” Gram sighed and pulled the door open. “Shall we go in?”

“Joe’s sticking close by,” I said as I looked out Bunny’s Restaurant’s large front window. Joe was pacing. The horse was still, almost eerily so. Earlier, I’d felt a slight breeze, but the horse’s tail and mane were motionless. Every now and then I saw his eyes blink, but his head didn’t move much.

“He’s in a hurry to get the letters delivered,” Gram said as she looked out, too.

“I can only imagine what it would be like to know that your task list—potentially your last task list—is almost done. He seems to think the outcome will be something positive. I hope so.”

“I hope so, too. I really do, Betts. But it won’t be terrible if you and I don’t have to figure out what to do about the letters anymore. So far you might have found it interesting, but it does get a little tiresome.”

“You like him, though, don’t you?”

“To be honest, I don’t know if I like him as much as I think he’s just a kid, and one who’s alone. Gent had his family. There aren’t many younger ghosts. I don’t mind the adults being confused and alone so much. Joe has always seemed so . . . lost.”

I should have figured that out. Gram was great at being a grandmother.

“He was pretty adamant about not coming inside,” Jerome said.

At first, Bunny had sat Gram and me in a small two-person booth, but we’d asked for something bigger. Bunny had pinched her lips—making her mustache bristle—and then showed us to a bigger booth. I sat on one side of the booth and Jerome and Gram sat on the other.

“I know,” Gram said. “He seemed like he didn’t like you, Jerome. You lived long after his time. He couldn’t have known you. Maybe you just rubbed him the wrong way. Ghost envy.”

“I’ve never met him before. Didn’t get a good look at him this time. He didn’t look at me. Never trust a man who won’t look you in the eye,” Jerome said.

I twisted slightly and looked out the front windows again. Jerome was right; for whatever reason, Joe hadn’t wanted to look him in the eye. Even I’d noticed. “Gram, are you sure Joe has never been able to recall his last name?”

“No. He doesn’t know. Or, I suppose, he has never wanted to tell me. I guess I don’t know which.”

I wondered again if Jake had a way of looking up all the Pony Express riders who had, in fact, gone missing, and if there was one with the first name of Joe, or Joseph or Joey, on the list. Something wasn’t right about Joe, although—and I had to remember this—they were ghosts, and the biggest thing that wasn’t right about all of them was that they were dead. Presumably, this symptom could cause a number of other strange, potentially unexplainable occurrences. I shook off the wonky feeling and decided to think about it later.

“Gram,” I said as I turned around. “Jerome found Astin Reagal’s remains, back when Jerome was alive.”

“Really? That’s pretty big news, I would think. Where are his remains?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been searching, but it’s been a long time.”

“Where were you searching?”

“Out by what used to be my property, on the way to Rolla, about a mile or two out of Broken Rope. At least, I’m almost certain that’s the area where I found his skeleton before.”

“Did you tell anyone about it?”

“I believe so. I think I told Elsa.”

“Your lady?” Gram asked easily, as if asking about someone’s “lady” was a common question.

“Yes.”

“Jerome’s been remembering her this trip.”

Gram’s head cocked slightly, and her mouth straightened into a tight line. “You’ve always had some memories of Elsa.”

“It’s that I’m remembering . . .”

“He’s remembering their connection better this time,” I continued for him.

“Interesting. Perhaps it’s meant to be. You and Betts have been too squirrelly-eyed for each other. Maybe Jerome remembering how he felt about Elsa is good.”

Jerome and I smiled at each other, more to share our humor over Gram’s observations than to flirt, but the gesture could have been misinterpreted.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Gram said at our continued “connection.” “Jerome, tell me more about Astin Reagal’s remains, if you remember the details.”

“I think that’s why I came back this time—to help you all find them.”

“Really? Okay, I guess I won’t analyze that idea too much but just go with it. So, how are you going to find him?”

“Keep looking, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone besides Elsa?”

“I can’t remember exactly. I died a week later, so that could have played a big part in my secrecy. I think that at that time she was the only person I trusted. I don’t think I was well thought of by then,” Jerome said as he scratched a spot above his ear, tilting his hat sideways again. “But I sense that there was a good reason. I remember a couple things from back then—there was the newspaper article that talked about Astin and how he’d been lost. I think Jake found that same article. Then, I remember having a strange sense of where he might be. What’s missing is the part that explains why or how I knew.”

“You sensed it, like psychic-ly? Had impressions or something?” I said.

The hat settled back into position as Jerome stopped scratching. “I don’t know what you mean, Isabelle.”

I was about to offer a quick explanation, but Gram interrupted. “Isn’t that Orly coming in?

I turned to see Orly push through the front door. He saw me immediately and waved, so I returned the greeting and he moved quickly toward us. Though I had questions for him and hadn’t been able to find him during the Dutch oven demonstrations, I kind of hoped he wouldn’t join us. I still hadn’t told Gram about Teddy, and my lie by omission was only going to seem bigger if he was the first one she heard the news from. However, some of the questions I had for Orly were specific to Teddy. Maybe I’d be okay if he did join us, but I’d have to do a quick job of giving Gram at least a heads-up about Teddy.

“Looks like we’re going to have some company,” Gram said.

“Should I leave?” Jerome said.

“No, it’s fine, but . . .” I hesitated, but I didn’t see any other way around it. “Gram, there’s something you should know. Teddy got into a fight and Orly helped him.” I didn’t need hindsight to know that the way I’d just handled giving her the news was cowardly and badly done.

“Uh,” Gram said.

“Betts, Missouri,” Orly said as he approached the table. “How are you lovely ladies? I must tell you that the Dutch oven event was a huge success. Everyone is buzzing about it.”

“That’s great to hear. We’re fine, Orly,” I said as Gram continued to digest the news. “Would you like to join us?” I scooted over so he wouldn’t try to sit on Jerome.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” he said.

“Not at all,” I said. “We’d love for you to join us.”

“I can’t imagine better company. Thank you.”

Orly sat next to me, which meant he was catty-corner from Jerome and directly across from Gram. We were two Winston women and two cowboys. Despite the slight transparency and different time periods, it was difficult not to notice the similarities between Jerome and Orly. The obvious one, of course, was that they were both cowboys, which I suspected made them somehow soul-brothers of sorts. The cowboy lifestyle had modernized over the years between their two lives, but nonetheless, they were the stuff of ruggedness, the type of people who lived outside more than inside. Ruddy skin and big shoulders were more their trademarks than mere aspects of their physical descriptions.

Orly was older than Jerome had been when he’d died, but there was a congruity in the set of their jaws and—I peered at the table to confirm—strong similarities in their calloused hands and marred fingers—none were perfectly straight. I’d liked Orly immediately, but now I hoped my initial instincts hadn’t been off.

“How’s everything at camp?” I asked Orly.

“All right. A little subdued, but the Dutch oven cooking demonstrations were enjoyed by everyone. Thank you both for your kind hospitality this morning.”

I nodded. “Our pleasure.”

Gram kind of nodded, too, but I could tell she wished for a chance to talk to me without Orly present.

Orly cleared his throat. “We’re trying to continue on without being disrespectful. It’s a difficult balance.”

“Did you know the man who was killed?” Gram asked.

“Just from the convention this year,” Orly said. “But I’m learning more and more about him every minute.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“He was interesting. He asked a lot about writing poetry. And, apparently, he asked a lot of questions about me, even though the two of us only had a couple brief conversations that were so unimportant I don’t remember them at all.”

“Did you have any arguments or discussions with him?”

“Not that I remember.”

“You might need to be careful, Orly,” Gram said. “Remember, the killer hasn’t been found yet.”

“Certainly, Missouri, but I’m pretty convinced that the killer was only planning on killing one person. I’ve been thinking about it. Almost everyone who was at the convention was there and watching the skit. The killer could have killed anyone, or more than just one person. None of us were prepared to shoot back, defend ourselves. I know that eventually the police would have figured out what was going on, but even a few moments of chaos . . . well, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“So, what if we try to figure out who wasn’t there; someone who stayed back from the crowd maybe, someone who seemed to disappear. Maybe that would help the police find the killer,” Gram said.

“My thinking exactly, Missouri,” Orly said. “That’s what I’ve been doing, talking to people to see if they noticed anyone go missing suddenly. It’s a backwards sort of task, but at least I feel like I’m doing something.”

“Found anything?” Gram said.

Orly laughed. “Well, it seems lots of people noticed that someone or a few someones were missing, but then when I look closer, ask more questions, I find that those people were actually there. I don’t think I’m very good at asking the right questions.”

“Or maybe you could just use some help,” I said. “Gram and I will be there later this afternoon. After she fries up some catfish, the frying duty is going to go to some of your poets. We’ll stick around and snoop.”

“Well, young lady, your grandmother’s words of warning apply to you, too. There’s a killer on the loose. You don’t need to put yourself on any potentially harmful path.”

I thought a minute. “I think we can all be casual. I’ll get Jake there, too, and I’m sure Cliff was already planning on going.” I wasn’t
sure
he was, but I thought it was a good possibility. “We’ll blend in. Believe it or not, even if Jake’s the only one who plays a part during the tourist season, we all have a healthy supply of Western wear,” I said.

“Alrighty. Same words of caution still apply, though.” Orly paused. “How’s your brother?”

I gulped and kept my eyes away from Gram. “I think he’s better.”

“We’re going to check on him after we eat,” Gram said.

I sent out a silent wish that his face would miraculously look a million times better by the time we were done with lunch.

“Oh, good. He’s up and around, then?”

“Yes,” I said. “Mostly.”

“Despite how he turns the girls’ heads, he is a nice young man,” Orly said.

“His way with girls is more a curse than a blessing, believe me,” I said.

Orly laughed. “I suspect that’s true.”

“Orly, I need to ask you something specific about my brother,” I said. “And it’s going to sound like I’m accusing you of something.”

“Oh. Well, goodness, then, accuse away. I think it’s always best to get to the meat of the nut. Don’t mince words, Betts.”

“I was talking to Cody this morning at the cooking demonstration.”

“Cody?”

“Cody was the bad guy in the skit that Norman was in.”

“That Cody. Yes, ma’am, I know who you’re speaking of.”

“He mentioned that he saw you the night Teddy was beaten,” I said. I thought I heard Gram sigh heavily, but I didn’t look at her.

“I’m sure he did. I’m all around that campsite.”

“He said he saw you escorting Teddy back toward your tent.” I didn’t think I needed to add that the tent was the same direction as the woods where Teddy was found.

Orly looked up toward the ceiling and thought hard. He looked down and at me a moment later. “Betts, my dear, I’m not sure you have any reason to believe me or believe anyone else at this point. You don’t really know any of us. But I can assure you that I didn’t escort Teddy anywhere. I have no recollection of seeing him that night. I wish I would have. Maybe I could have prevented what ultimately transpired.”

“He doesn’t sound like he’s lying, Isabelle,” Jerome said.

He didn’t. At all.

“However,” Orly continued, “and I’m not trying to throw you off your game or anything, but I will tell you this: That young man Cody is an interesting fella. I’ve seen him lose his temper a time or two in just the past couple of days. Out of the blue–like, for no real reason at all.”

I hadn’t seen Cody lose his temper during any of the rehearsals I’d watched, but I certainly hadn’t seen them all. Jake had seen many. I’d have to ask him if he observed any irrational behavior from the “bad guy.”