A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection Books 1 - 3: End of the Lane, Be Still My Heart and The Last Ride

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A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery Collection Books 1 - 3: End of the Lane, Be Still My Heart and The Last Ride Page 37

by Sonia Parin


  “We are. That’s what the sign on the door says, but I need to download and print the photos I took at the stables and start working on my crime board.” She smiled at him and couldn’t help adding. “Feel free to join the brainstorming session.”

  “I might take you up on the offer, after I finish my shift. There’s nothing to watch on TV tonight.”

  Abby had one foot out of the car when she turned to him and asked, “Are you juggling other crimes?”

  “No, just this one, but with no clear motive, it’s headed toward the unsolved case file.”

  “I guess that’s why you invited me along. You’re desperate.”

  He shrugged. “You have exceptional observation skills. I can’t let a little pride stand in the way of solving the case.”

  Abby tilted her head in thought. “There’s a catch. I’m sure there is.”

  He clamped his hands around the steering wheel. “No catch. I’m being practical and making use of the available resources.”

  It sounded too good to be true, but Abby didn’t push him. “Drop by when you can.” She hurried to the front door and let herself in before anyone caught sight of her. Not that it would make any difference since the large windows faced the street so anyone walking by the newspaper would be able to see her inside.

  Paper airplanes littered the floor. That must have been Faith’s way of dealing with her withdrawal jitters the day before, Abby thought.

  As she set up the connections to download the photos she sensed people striding up to the store front window and peering inside. Ignoring them, Abby got busy printing out the photos, losing herself in the activity. The thoughts that had been blazing through her mind had taken a break. And thank goodness for that, she couldn’t help thinking. Her mom would say she’d been handed a wake-up call and should make the best of it. Abby considered the possibility of giving up coffee. The thought hovered in her mind for a second. She’d heard say it took thirty days to break a habit. With the right attitude, she could maybe… possibly give it a go.

  Abby hummed and drummed her fingers as she watched the printer churning out one image after the other.

  Glancing out the window, she watched people stroll by. A couple slowed down and looked in her direction. The woman Abby recognized as a regular customer at the café waved and the man beside her nodded. Abby waved back… with both hands. The couple moved on. Abby’s attention shifted to the street. A pickup truck drove by and then another. She wondered how long it would take for the next car to drive by. Suddenly, the paper airplanes made sense.

  As she printed another batch of photos, Abby picked up a pen and worked on getting it to wobble. She almost had it when her attention drifted to the street again.

  A pickup truck drove by. Sky blue and looking slightly rusted around the edges. Abby sat up. She’d seen it only a moment before. This time, it slowed down but then turned a corner. She was about to look away. Instead, she kept her eyes on the road. Moments later, the same pickup truck drove by again. Abby leaned forward and tried to see the driver but she only managed to see a beefy arm hanging out of the driver’s window.

  Picking up her cell phone, she called Joshua.

  “What did you find?” he asked.

  “Nothing. That’s not why I’m calling. How much did you notice about the person you chased after today?”

  “Obviously not enough if you think you saw a woman and I think I saw a man.”

  Abby nibbled her bottom lip. “I might have been wrong. It could have been a man.”

  “Or, a well-built woman,” Joshua said.

  “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I did see a woman who happened to be built like a man.”

  “What’s all this about, Abby?”

  “Hang on.” Abby hung up and rushed to the window. Edging toward the corner, she pressed her face against the window and peered down the street. When she saw the pickup truck turn the corner and drive toward her, she aimed the cell phone and started taking photos. “Gotcha.”

  She sent Joshua the photos and called him again. “I’m back. Did you get the photos I sent you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does the driver look like the person you chased after?”

  She imagined Joshua sitting back and rubbing his fingers along his chin before answering.

  “I got close enough to catch a glimpse of a green jacket,” he said.

  And the driver wore a green jacket. Could it be the same person she’d seen at the house? “Why do you think they’ve now driven into town?” Were they trying to make sure the coast would be clear for them to return to the house? Abby gasped. She hoped they didn’t think she could lead them to Kinsley…

  “Hang tight. Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Joshua said. “I’m on my way. This could be our man… or woman.”

  “What are you doing here?” Abby asked when she strode into her apartment and saw Faith.

  Faith crossed her arms and scowled. “I’ve had the proverbial rug pulled out from right under me. Joyce kicked me out of the café and we’ve had our coffee privileges revoked until further notice. Joyce has decided to take her suspicions seriously. She believes you have been withholding evidence and hiding something from her. She’s not sure, but she promises to get to the bottom of it. She’s also keeping tabs on who buys coffee in case there are any unusual activities. According to Joyce, we all have particular habits and she knows them all. The woman is tyrannical.”

  Abby glanced over at Kinsley who mouthed an apology.

  “I hope you’ve had a successful morning,” Faith said.

  Abby turned and checked to make sure she’d locked the door. When she settled down on the couch, she told them about spotting someone watching Kinsley’s house. “Then she followed me to the Gazette. Although, at first, Joshua insisted it had been a man.”

  Faith snorted. “He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman?”

  “We know now. It’s a woman. She’s incredibly bulky. I wouldn’t be surprised if she lifts weights.” She set a stack of photos down on the coffee table. “Joshua drove back into town and intercepted her. He’s taken her in for questioning and, I have to say, I don’t envy his job at all. I’m sure the woman could have taken him on.” She stretched her arms out. “She’s quite broad around the shoulders.”

  “Is he likely to tell you what he finds out?” Faith asked.

  Hard to say, Abby thought. She knew Joshua had strict guidelines. He’d been willing to bend and break some, but she didn’t think he would breach all police protocol just to keep her in the loop and on side.

  “I’m sure he’ll share pertinent information. I’ve been a valuable asset in the past. Those are his words… more or less.” Abby thought he would be doing himself a disservice if he didn’t share or at least bounce ideas around with her. After all, she’d raised the alarm about the driver. Who would want to follow her back to town? And why? Taking a deep swallow, she tried not to think about the fact she’d been tailed.

  She’d had a nail-biting moment watching Joshua approach the driver who’d eventually pulled up across the street from the newspaper. After a few minutes, the woman had emerged. Abby had seen her produce a license and, moments later, she’d followed Joshua in her truck.

  The fact Joshua had allowed her to drive herself to the police station suggested she might have given a reasonable explanation for being outside the Gazette. But how would she have justified snooping around Kinsley’s house?

  Kinsley sat up and clasped her hands together. “Do you think this is the person who’s been keeping an eye on my house?”

  “Most likely, but we won’t know for sure unless Joshua gets a confession out of her.” Noticing Kinsley’s blank stare, Abby added, “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

  “So, what are these?” Faith asked as she pointed at the photos on the coffee table.

  “They’re some photos I took at the stables. We need pens and paper and we need to start writing down ideas. Whatever comes to mind. And
these photos need to go up on the wall.” She turned and looked around her apartment. “Where’s Doyle?”

  “Snoozing in his doggy bed,” Faith said. “I took him out for a stroll before but he didn’t want to go far. I think he might have felt left out.”

  Abby went to check on him but he didn’t even stir so she left him to it. She’d have a lot of explaining to do later that night. Since finding him by the side of the road, they’d been joined at the hip. Everywhere she went, Doyle was right there beside her, and she had no qualms about using him as a sounding board, even when they were out in public.

  “I hope I haven’t scarred him with abandonment issues,” she murmured as she strode back out to the sitting room and got busy sorting through the photos.

  “Why did you take so many photos of the carousel?” Faith asked.

  Abby tried to recall the ideas that had streamed through her mind. “It’s where the body was found.” She clicked her fingers. “The carousel is in a prominent position. It hasn’t just been abandoned. There has to be something significant about it.”

  Kinsley cupped her chin in her hands and studied the images. “Sam Peters thought it could be worth something.”

  He must have felt confident about his ability to restore it. Or maybe he’d been the type of person who could acquire the skills needed, Abby thought as she recalled the mechanic saying he thought Sam had asked him about carousels. They didn’t go around by themselves so it had to have some sort of motor inside.

  “Did Sam Peters ever mention where he came from or did he ever talk about the type of job he did before coming here?” Surely, he must have opened up to someone.

  Kinsley got up and started helping with the photos. “I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about his past. Lone wolves tend to be like that.”

  Faith rubbed her stomach.

  “Are you all right there?” Abby asked.

  “Joyce chased me out of the café before I had my lunch.”

  Abby shrugged. “We’ll order in. I keep the menu in the kitchenette.” She picked up one of the close-up shots of the carousel and tried to match it to the next one she’d taken. “I think we’ll be able to put together a collage of the stables. There’s something there and someone wants it badly enough to kill for it.”

  Chapter Eight

  After two hours of looking at the collage they’d created and getting nowhere, Abby erupted to her feet. “Priorities, people. Faith, I need you to find out the name of everyone who has been associated with Warren Kinsley before and after he retired. If he kept in touch with some of his employees, I want to know. If he hired a cleaning lady, I want to know. If he had a newspaper delivered every morning, I want to know. Contact the retirement village where he spent his last years. He might have talked about his time in the circus. I want to know who did his accounts. Do your best to get as much information as you can about his business dealings. The man did not die destitute and, as far as we know, he left everything to Kinsley.” That had to include some money, Abby thought. She turned toward the window and looked out. What if he’d hidden his money in the house?

  “Are you even breathing?” Faith asked.

  Abby gulped in a big breath and pushed it out. “Happy now?”

  “Is there something I can do?” Kinsley asked. “I’m feeling helpless.”

  Abby shook her head. “The less people who know you’re here, the better. You need to stay safe. You could maybe do some online searching.” Abby tapped her chin. “Find out which towns the Kinsley Circus toured. These days, you can find posts online about anything.” With any luck, she might come across some photos, Abby thought. She might even dig up a photo of Warren Kinsley. Abby wouldn’t mind putting a face to the name.

  She checked her cell phone. If Joshua didn’t call her soon, she’d have to bite the bullet and harass him for information. As far as they knew, that woman had been keeping an eye on the house and Abby needed to know why.

  A knock at the door had Faith jumping to her feet.

  “Did you order more food?” Abby asked. They’d already enjoyed a sumptuous lunch.

  Faith shrugged. “I’m edgy and about to become snarly. I need something to take my mind off the coffee I should be having right about now.” She opened the door and Markus strode in, his eyebrows drawn down.

  “Still busy getting nowhere?” he asked.

  Abby clicked her fingers. “I wanted to ask you something. Give me a minute. It’ll come to me.”

  He set a tray down on the coffee table. “Hanna’s best pastries and a pot of tea. You should sit down and enjoy them.”

  Abby didn’t argue or dare to suggest she would eat the pastries later. Without spelling it out to her, Markus had set out his condition and she knew she had to go along or risk being blacklisted by him.

  As she ate, Markus studied the photos on the wall.

  Brushing a finger along the light bristle on his chin, he said, “You really don’t have a single strong lead.”

  “Nope. If the police have unearthed any background information about Sam Peters, they’re not sharing it with me.” Abby slumped back on the couch and sipped her tea. Would she look back on this moment and think of it as the defining turning point in her life? She could become a tea drinker. Surely, she could.

  “Joshua will track down every single morsel of information there is about him,” Faith said. “Joshua has all the resources available to him, including tax records. He’ll know exactly when and where Sam Peters had been working.”

  “I suspect he only worked for cash.” Abby looked at Markus. “How did you guys pay him?” His silence told her she had no business asking. “This is a big country,” Abby continued. “As large as the States. If he had a driver’s license, I guess the police will be able to figure out where he’d lived before coming here.”

  “Not necessarily,” Markus said. “You can get your license in one state and then move to another.” He hitched his hands on his hips. “I’m thinking he might have come from South Australia. The first day he came into the pub he asked for a butcher.”

  Abby frowned. “He wanted to buy meat?”

  Markus gave a pensive shake of his head. “It’s the size of a glass of beer. About 7oz. Over in South Australia, it’s called a butcher. We just call it a glass. In a couple of other states, a glass or a butcher is called a seven.”

  “I had no idea there were different names for a glass of beer.”

  “Oh, yeah. There’s the horse or pony. That’s about 5oz and it’s called a Shetland in Western Australia. Then there’s the Bobbie, the schooner, pint, and a few others.”

  Abby sat up. “Okay. This is good. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Markus lifted his eyebrow. “Then again, he might have been traveling around and forgot he’d crossed state lines.”

  “There must be a way to track down his previous whereabouts,” Abby mused. “Everyone knows where I am. I have a stamp on my passport.” She waved her cell phone. “I’m sure this sends out a signal and tells someone exactly where I am. I make purchases with my cards all the time and those can be traced.”

  Faith grinned. “If we mapped out your daily routine, we’d have a trail going around in circles. You’re like a little ant.” She gave her a wide smile. “Or a lab mouse in a maze.”

  Markus’ soft growl drew everyone’s attention to him. “That’s why I always carry cash and don’t own a cell phone.”

  “And you wear a tinfoil hat to bed?” Faith asked.

  Markus gave her a slanted eye look. “We’ll see who has the last laugh. Now, eat up and drink the tea before it gets cold.”

  Kinsley seemed to be immune to his no-nonsense tone. Ignoring him, she fixed her attention on the laptop. Moments later, she cleared her throat. “I think I found something.” She set the laptop down on the coffee table. “It’s a documentary video about the circus and there’s mention of the Kinsley Circus.”

  They all huddled together to watch it.

  Kinsley pointe
d at a stout looking man in a top hat. “Do you think that’s Warren Kinsley?”

  The documentary dealt with the changes in circus acts and the disappearance of animal performances. The Kinsley Circus’ main attraction had been their performing horses but animal rights activists had been hounding them so the man talked about phasing out the act.

  Abby’s eyes widened. “Hey.” She pointed at the screen. “Look at that poster behind him. They have a strong woman act.” Her mind went straight to the woman who’d followed them back to town. Had she worked in a circus?

  Picking up her cell phone, Abby sent Joshua a text message asking if the woman had worked at the circus. Within minutes, he called her.

  “Yes,” he said and growled under his breath. “How did you figure it out? She’d worked for the circus as a weightlifter.”

  Abby grinned. “I have my ways. Perhaps you could bestow special privileges on me or I could become an honorary detective.”

  “Pardon? Did you say you want to be our mascot?” Joshua asked. “We could do with one of those around here to fetch and carry.”

  Abby smiled. “If that entitles me to special treatment, then so be it. Anyhow, did you get the weightlifter to confess to stalking us?” Abby frowned. “Hello?” No answer. “He hung up. I can’t believe it. How could he… How dare he”

  A knock at the door had everyone stilling and mouthing, “Who could that be?”

  “I’ll get it,” Markus said. He opened the door and Joshua strode in, his hair ruffled, his tie loosened. Markus said, “Detective. We were just about to start using a photo of you as target practice. The girls are upset with you because you’re not playing nice and sharing information with them and you just cut them off.”

  “Sorry. It’s been one of those days and I forgot to charge my phone, but I was headed here anyway. As I was saying before my phone cut out, she said she’d been looking for Sam Peters.”

  Sighing, Abby rubbed her hands across her face, “Of course she’d been looking for him because she wanted to kill him.”

 

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