The Crêpes of Wrath: A Pancake House Mystery by Sarah Fox Page A

drained, almost wrung out. But I couldn’t rest. Not yet. I still had things to take care of on Jimmy’s behalf and I had a promise to keep.
    Pushing myself back up out of the chair, I headed for the kitchen.
    Ivan stood at the large sink, washing his hands, his back to me. I hesitated inside the doorway but stepped forward as he turned around and dried his hands, his dark eyes zeroing in on me.
    “Ready to head home?” I asked in an effort to get a conversation going.
    He nodded and untied his apron.
    After three seconds of silence ticked by, I knew I’d have to jump right in or watch him leave without another word.
    “You’ve known Jimmy a long time.”
    Ivan still didn’t say anything, but at least his eyes flicked my way again.
    “Do you know if he had any enemies, anyone who might have had a reason to kill him?”
    Those dark eyes of his drilled into me. “Ida. You saw what she was like.”
    I nodded and fought the urge to fidget beneath his direct gaze. “But why kill him after all these years? Didn’t he fire her ages ago?”
    Ivan hung up his apron and strode past me and out the kitchen door, leaving it swinging in his wake.
    I didn’t know if it was wise or not, but I followed him, catching up to him as he reached the break room.
    Without glancing my way, he finally responded to my question as he opened his locker. “Maybe her grudge has festered.” He grabbed his jacket and slammed his locker shut. “Or maybe she’s just happy someone else killed him.”
    “But who? Did Jimmy have any other conflicts? Any other enemies?”
    Ivan gave his head a curt shake as he pulled on his jacket. “Jimmy was a good man.”
    “He was,” I agreed. “But unless his murder was random, somebody had an issue with him.”
    “Somebody who might not like you asking questions.”
    His statement took me aback for a second. “I just want the murderer to be caught.”
    “The sheriff will do that.” Ivan headed for the break room door and I had to dodge aside so I wouldn’t get trampled.
    “But the sheriff thinks Leigh did it,” I said as I hurried along behind him. “We can’t let her go to jail for something she didn’t do.”
    Ivan slowed his steps as we passed the storage room. “Sheriff Georgeson is a smart man, and he knows this town better than you do. He’ll figure out that Leigh is innocent.”
    His reminder that I was an outsider stung a little, even though it was true. He picked up his pace again, leaving me standing near the storage room.
    When he reached the back door, he paused. “Be careful.”
    With those final words, he left the pancake house.
    I remained standing in place as he disappeared from sight, his warning echoing inside my head and sending an icy chill whispering down my spine.
    —
    After locking up the pancake house, I made a quick stop at the bank to deposit the cash earned that day and then set off on foot for my appointment with Hugh Ogilvie. It was only as I turned the corner onto Main Street that I realized I hadn’t dressed that morning with my appointment in mind. If I’d thought farther ahead, I probably would have worn something a little less casual than a graphic tee and jeans, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. Even though I was a bit ahead of schedule, I didn’t have enough time to walk to Jimmy’s house, change, and get back to the center of town. So I kept walking and hoped that Mr. Ogilvie wouldn’t mind my jeans, which were worn and frayed in places.
    Although I didn’t have an exact address for the lawyer’s office, I didn’t doubt that I’d find it without any trouble. Wildwood Cove’s Main Street consisted of only two blocks and the second block, the one farther from the ocean, was home to the fire station, a medical clinic, a mechanic’s garage, and the town’s grocery store. Everything else with a Main Street address was situated on the block closer to the beach.
    Halfway along the street, I spotted the real estate office across the