“Off-putting?” Barb snorted. “He was despicable, if you ask me!” She huffed and leaned back in her chair before her countenance sobered. Then she wrapped both hands around her latte, staring down into the foam. "He was such a horrible man. I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but God, Sara Lee, he was just awful. The way he talked to people. The things he said."
"I know. I saw some of it."
"He came to my booth, remember? And he was so... creepy. No, not just creepy, but slimy! If Tom hadn't been there..." Barb shuddered. "I'm not saying I'm glad he's dead. But I'm not sorry either. Does that make me a terrible person?"
"It makes you human." Sara Lee reached over and squeezed her friend's hand. "You weren't the only one he was horrible to. He seemed to go out of his way to upset people."
Barb's expression shifted slightly, becoming more thoughtful. "You know, after Raymond insulted me at the booth and then tried to grab my arm, my parents got really… angry."
Sara Lee's attention sharpened, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “You're their daughter.”
"I know. My mom just said something about how Raymond was always trouble, but my dad's face went all red and tight." Barb blew out a breath. "I’m just glad Tom got there first."
“And your brother?”
“Oh, my God, Bill was ready to head out and punch Raymond! My dad stopped him, and I assured them that Tom stepped in. They were glad that he was close by.”
This was the natural opening Sara Lee had been hoping for. She leaned forward slightly, keeping her voice gentle and curious rather than interrogating. "Did they know Raymond well? Maybe back in the past, since they would be close in age and had grown up here?"
"I guess? I mean, Meadowlark Creek is small, right? Everyone knows everyone." Barb picked at her cinnamon bun, but didn’t actually eat it. "But the way they reacted... it felt… personal, somehow."
Sara Lee filed that away, her mind already spinning. Bob's angry confrontation with Raymond at the festival. The mention of old debts and money. And now this reaction from Barb's parents.
"Hey," Sara Lee said, trying to sound casual even as guilt gnawed at her stomach. "I hate asking you to gossip about your family, but... your dad's business. The lumberyard. It's doing well, right?"
Barb's smile was genuine, full of pride. "Are you kidding? It's doing amazing. Better than ever, actually." Then her expression shifted, becoming slightly puzzled. "Which is funny, because I remember several years ago, right after my divorce, Mom mentioned something about the business having troubles. Money problems, I think."
Sara Lee remembered the college boyfriend that Barb had married, even against her parents’ wishes… and honestly, Sara Lee’s wishes as well. He was an immature young man who had dreams of glory without having the good sense to work hard to make them come true. Finally, after a couple of years, he and Barb divorced, and she moved back to Meadowlark Creek.
Bringing her mind back to the task at hand, she continued. "But your parents worked out the money problems?”
"Must have. Because Dad gave me the money to open this place." Barb gestured around the coffee shop with obvious affection. "He wanted to invest in my dream. It was after my divorce, and I was such a mess. Dad just showed up with a check. Said the lumber business was doing great and he wanted to help me start over."
Sara Lee's latte suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth. So at one time, Bob had money troubles. And then a few years ago, he suddenly had enough to invest in Barb's coffee shop. What had happened in between? And how did Raymond factor into any of it?
"That was really generous of him," Sara Lee said carefully.
"It was. I mean, I've tried to talk business with Dad and Bill over the years, you know? Ask about expansion plans, profit margins, that kind of thing. I took business classes when I was planning the shop. But they always change the subject." Barb's smile was slightly sad. "I know they’re proud of me, but I think they don't want to mix family businesses. Like, the coffee shop is mine, but the lumber business is theirs."
Barb said it lightly, but Sara Lee detected a hint of hurt underneath.
“Mom stops by the shop all the time, but Dad and Bill? I think they’re afraid of a foufou coffee being unmanly,” she laughed, shaking her head. "But they certainly love my pastries. Anyway, yeah, the lumber business must be doing great. Best in the area, probably. Maybe even the best in the state."
The pride in Barb's voice when she said it made Sara Lee's chest ache. Her best friend was eager to believe the best about her family, no longer having money issues. And that, perhaps, tied into the exclusion of business talk. There might be things about the Cordell lumber business that Bob and Bill didn't want anyone to know. Especially not Barb.
"I should let you get back to work," Sara Lee said, even though she wanted to stay and protect her friend from whatever ugly truth might be hiding in her family's business dealings.
"You just got here!"
"I know, but I promised Nana June that I’d help at the library. And honestly, talking to you helped take my mind off the mur… um… death of Raymond." That was stretching the truth, but it was the only thing she could think to say. "Thanks for the coffee and the treat. And just for being you."
Barb stood and hugged her again. "Anytime. Seriously. If you need to talk about the shock of yesterday’s find in the park, or anything else, I'm here."
Sara Lee left the coffee shop feeling more confused than when she'd arrived. She'd hoped that Barb would have a perfectly ordinary explanation about her family’s lumber business. Instead, she learned somethingpotentially important… the Cordells had had money troubles that mysteriously resolved themselves a few years ago. But she also confirmed in her mind that Barb was innocent. Her best friend was too open, too genuine, too completely unaware of whatever secrets her father and brother might be keeping.
She walked slowly back toward home, her mind churning through what she'd learned. The conversation started naturally enough. She hadn't really interrogated Barb. They just talked, the way best friends do.
But the guilt sat heavily in her stomach anyway.
