Page 19 of Half Baked

Surprise washed over his face. “I guess I knew he was in there because of dementia, but I hadn’t really connected the dots. I heard he’s totally out of it. Did you talk to him?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Sort of? He seemed pretty delusional, but when I mentioned that I was Andrea Baker’s daughter, he got really paranoid.”

Lance cocked his head. “How so?”

“He looked scared and swore he hadn’t talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“An eagle.”

“An eagle? What does that mean?”

I made a face. “I was hoping it might be some code word or something and you’d know. In any case, he told me neither one of us was safe because he’d told me. No one who knew was safe. He said they were going to come looking for him.”

Lance leaned closer. “Whowas going to come looking for him?”

“The skinny man, but he also said, ‘She shouldn’t have done it.’ He never made it clear what she shouldn’t have done, though.”

“Do you think he was talking about your mother?”

I shook my head. “Honestly, I don’t know. It could have all been in his head, but I don’t want to dismiss it either.”

“You know Noah and I want to re-investigate your mother’s case,” he said slowly, watching me. “We just haven’t had time, and since her file is missing, we have to start from scratch. Kind of hard to do on an eighteen-year-old cold case.”

“Almost nineteen, and I know,” I said, giving him an appreciative smile. “Especially since you were so certain Martin Schroeder was her murderer.”

“You still won’t tell us who provided his alibi?”

I took a sip of my tea and gave him a pointed look.

My best friend from high school, Colleen Nichols, had told me that Martin Schroeder had molested her. But she’d also said that he’d been with her at the Bluebird Inn the night my mother was killed. She had a family now and claimed to have put all of that behind her. Her husband had no idea it had happened, and she didn’t want him to find out. So I’d promised to keep her secret, especially since I didn’t think it would help us find my mother’s killer.

Lance gave me a stern look. “You do know that the person’s memory could be faulty. Especially after all this time.”

“And we both know that everyone in town knew where they were the night my mother was killed. It was Cockamamie’s own version of the Kennedy assassination.”

He didn’t argue because he knew it was true. He could tell me without hesitation what he’d been doing the night my mother was murdered.

“So let’s say Bergan’s ramblings were about your mother. Do you have any idea what he was talking about?”

“None whatsoever.”

Lance sat up straight. “I think we should go back and talk to him.”

“I have to work at the coffee shop tomorrow, but I get off at three.”

He let out a short laugh. “When I said we, I meant me and Noah. Not you.”

My indignation rose. “She wasmymother, Lance.”

He sat back in his chair. “This is an official investigation. You need to let us handle it.”

“And fit it in when you can?” I asked, my brow raised. “I have a right to know what happened to her.”

“I’m not disagreeing. We’ll tell you everything we can as we learn it.”

“Which means you’ll leave things out.”

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