Free Scam Chowder by Maya Corrigan Page B

you came here to tell me?”
    â€œOne more thing. I overheard a conversation between Lillian and Granddad. He doesn’t know I eavesdropped. Please don’t give me away.” She told the chief about Granddad’s plan to confront Scott and get Ned’s money back. “Scott got sick before anyone could accuse him of swindling. His death makes it less likely that Granddad can help his friend recover the money.”
    The chief pointed the stem of his pipe at her. “Your granddaddy had no reason to want Scott dead. Is that your point?”
    â€œYes, but Lillian might have had a reason. She certainly had the opportunity to poison his chowder. When she took the bowls from the kitchen to the dining room, she walked through the butler’s pantry. If she tampered with a chowder bowl there, no one would have seen her do it.”
    The chief drew on his pipe. “Did she set a bowl in front of Scott?”
    â€œShe claimed she put the bowls on the table and asked people to pass them. I’d want confirmation of that from other people at the table before I accepted it. You might also want to check on the mystery man, Omar.”
    â€œWhoever handles the investigation will check on everybody who was there.”
    Val sat upright. “Whoever handles the investigation? Aren’t you going to—?”
    â€œI have to step back. I’ve known your granddaddy since I was a boy. He was like a father to me after my own daddy died. If the autopsy results suggest a crime may have occurred at his house, I gotta pass this to someone else.”
    The Bayport Police Department dealt mostly with traffic and safety issues. No one besides the chief had experience as an investigator. “Who’ll handle the case?” Val tensed, fearing bad news.
    â€œI’ll turn it over to the sheriff’s office.”
    â€œOh no. Not Holtzman.” The image of the detective with the shaved head and the sneering face sprang into her mind. “Please tell me it won’t be him.”
    â€œHe’s the top investigator in the sheriff’s department.”
    And Val’s nemesis. “He was so nasty to me during the last murder case that I complained to his boss about him. Do you think he knows about my complaint?”
    The chief chewed on his pipe. “If he knows you’re the complaining type, he may treat you better.”
    Or worse. “He’ll probably handcuff Granddad and me, and lock us both up.”
    â€œIf he does, I’ll get your granddaddy out. You, I might leave there, so you don’t try to solve a murder on your own like last time.”
    â€œI wasn’t trying to solve a murder on my own then, and I don’t intend to do that now. If I find out anything, I’ll report it.” Reporting what she found out didn’t guarantee the obnoxious sheriff’s deputy would listen to her. Holtzman had come to all the wrong conclusions about the other murder. He would do that again, unless he’d had a brain transplant in the last month.
    She stood up, thanked the chief for his time, and hurried to her car. As she waited to make a left turn from the police station parking area onto the road, a man trained a huge camera on her. Junie May was with him and hailed her, waving a microphone. Val didn’t want to answer questions about her visit to police headquarters at all, much less on camera. She smiled, waved at Junie May, and pulled out onto the road.
    Val drove back to the café. Customers sat eating at four of the bistro tables. Not a bad crowd.
    Bethany took off her apron. “I’ll come back for you at closing time, but you have to be ready to leave at exactly two. The pet-a-pet session at the Village starts at two-thirty.”
    â€œI’ll be ready.”
    Usually Val stayed around for an hour longer, preparing what she’d need for the following day’s breakfasts, but with business slow, she should have enough time to do the