Plotting for Murder (Cozy Mystery Bookshop Series Book 1)

by Tamra Baumann

  As I input my grocery list into my phone, the door opens again, and it’s Gage’s Aunt Betty. “Hi, Principal Franklin. How are you?” She’s dressed in yoga pants and a matching jacket, and has her mat tucked under an arm. I see now the family resemblance. Principal Franklin is blonde and attractive like Gage.

  “I’m great, but you can call me Betty now, Sawyer.”

  I open my mouth to try, but it just won’t come out. She’ll always be my former principal. “I’ll work on it.”

  “I get that a lot.” Smiling, she joins me at the front counter. “Gage forwarded your text to me. What are you looking for?” She sets her mat on the floor and pulls a cell phone from her jacket pocket. “I can access the cameras from my phone.”

  Just like mine. Probably because Ed installed a similar system. “Can this stay just between the two of us? Unless we find something important, of course.”

  Principal Franklin tilts her head. “If I can. Gage told me about your backyard intruder last night. Which camera are you interested in?”

  “The track. This morning. Anyone run there?”

  “We usually have a few.” Gage’s aunt taps her phone and scrolls through the cameras. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Crystal. Or anyone wearing black sweats.”

  The principal’s eyebrows arch. “Doing detective work behind Dylan’s back?”

  She could always see right through people. Probably from all her years dealing with kids in trouble. “Yes, but he’s on to me.”

  “Mmmm. Well, the school is public property, so I don’t see any harm in me looking.”

  Nervous anticipation makes my fingertips tingle as the principal scrolls. Finally, she shakes her head. “No sign of Crystal today. Just your neighbor Bill wearing red and white.”

  Darn it. Maybe Crystal didn’t have time to run if she made a stop at the Admiral’s house. “Would it be too much trouble to look back the last few weeks? See if we can spot black running gear?”

  “Since there’s always incredible coffee here, I could take a few minutes and look.” She makes her way to the dining area and pours herself a cup. Then she grabs a croissant and sits. “I was so sorry to hear about your mom, Sawyer. I haven’t had a chance to tell you that.”

  “Thank you.” I pour myself another cup of coffee and sit across from her. “I guess you’ve been away for most of the summer?”

  “Yes. Glad to be back home, though.” The principal’s finger stops scrolling, and she meets my gaze. “Gage mentioned what an incredible chef you are, Sawyer. Are you interested in doing some catering? We’re having a party in a few weeks. A fundraiser thing for my mother’s artsy pals. Lots of hoity-toity types from the city.”

  “I’d love to. Text me when and where.” Maybe if people like the food, I can pick up a few more private dinner parties in the city to help me get by for now.

  “Great. You’ll be saving my life.” She scrolls some more. “I keep seeing Crystal—she jogs by a few times a week—but not the black sweats.” The principal’s coffee cup stops halfway to her lips. “Wait. I think we found what you’re looking for. This was back in May.” She turns the phone my way.

  There’s Crystal jogging the track, wearing a Raider’s jacket, black sweatpants, and wearing white tennis shoes. The gait seems familiar, but that might be from when I’d seen her around town. Was she the one I saw running away from my house? It’s hard to tell. It’d been dark.

  “Can you send that to Dylan, please?”

  A deep voice says, “Send what to me?”

  I was concentrating so hard on the video, I didn’t realize he’d come back. “It’s Crystal, wearing exactly what the Admiral described his intruder wearing. I knew I’d seen her wearing that before.”

  “It’s not an uncommon look around here.” Dylan takes the phone from Principal Franklin and watches the video for a moment. “This should be enough to get us a search warrant. Or, maybe once we show her the video, she’ll voluntarily agree to let us search her house. Can I email this to the station?”

  Betty nods. “Sure. Whatever you need.”

  “Good work, ladies.”

  Principal Franklin lifts her hands. “That was all Sawyer, not me. Glad I could help. Good luck, Dylan. Nice to see you, Sawyer.” She grabs her yoga mat, takes her phone back, and heads toward the front door.

  “Thanks again …Betty.” It still feels wrong to call her that.

  I turn to Dylan, “Any news on the Admiral? Can we all go to the bank this afternoon? Before the search warrant comes through?”

  “He won’t get out of the hospital until a doc signs him out. Might be too late today by the time he gets back here. The search warrant might come through any minute, though. I told the bank we’d like to be there too.”

  “Will the police keep the letter?”

  “If it has valuable information, yes. They’d bag it as evidence.”

  Shoot. I wanted to be the first to read the letter. “When you got back, I was going to the grocery store to get stuff for tonight, because after this morning, I don’t want to leave Brittany here by herself, but I want to be at the bank when they open the letter too.”

  He hooks his thumbs in his utility belt. “Why don’t you lock up and send Brittany home? Leave a note here in the window that book club is still on at six. Then you can stick with me in case they get permission to open the Admiral’s safety deposit box.”

  I hate to miss a sale by closing early—I could really use the money—but that makes the most sense.

  Dylan is tapping texts out on his phone while I toss ingredients into the shopping cart at the grocery store. He hasn’t left my side since we left the bookstore and he’s been on his phone the whole time, so I ask him, “Did Crystal agree to the search?”

  He looks up and blinks at me as if his eyes have been staring at his tiny screen so long, my full-sized face is too much for his pupils to take in. “Yes. They’re searching her house right now. Wade’s house and car came up with nothing significant.”

  “Nothing significant? So, something?”

  He nods as his thumbs go back to work on his phone. “We already knew he had a Raiders jacket too. So nothing new there.”

  Both Wade and Crystal have the same jacket. And who doesn’t have a pair of black sweats? Not a lot to go on, but enough to make Crystal realize she’d get searched with or without her permission. So mission accomplished there.

  After all the ingredients are in my cart, I head for the front checkout. And guess who’s on duty? Julie. She must’ve been on a break when Dylan and I arrived. This could be an opportunity, but not with Dylan by my side. He’s too much of a truth teller to go along with what I’m thinking, so I say to him, “Why don’t you wait for me by the front door? I have to grab one more thing, and then I’ll be ready.”

  He looks up from his phone again. “I’ll go with you.”

  Brother. “I don’t want you to go with me. I have to buy something …personal.”

  “Oh.” His eyes shift from me to his phone in a flash. “Got it. See you up front.” He scurries off like there’s a fire by the front door to put out. He was never one to delve into all the personal things women have to do that men don’t. And I don’t feel at all bad about using that fact in this case.

  I take my chance for freedom and hightail it to Julie’s line. There’s a person in front of me, so I grab the rubber stick to separate our orders and start unloading. Dylan is making a point of not looking my way, so I’m good to go.

  When it’s my turn, I say, “Hey, Julie. How’s it going?”

  Her eyes shift toward Dylan and then back to me. “As well as to be expected. Under the circumstances and all.”

  Here’s my chance. “Yeah, I hear Wade and Crystal both had their houses and cars searched today.”

  Julie’s head turns so fast, I fear for whiplash. “She’s the one who told us not to let the cops inside. Her father said it was a civil rights thing.”

  I nod as I keep loading groceries
onto the belt. “Something about their jackets being the same as the person who attacked the Admiral or some such, so Crystal gave in to the search before she was ordered to. Kind of makes you look a little guilty now, though, being the only holdout, huh?”

  Julie stops scanning. “I guess it does. But I don’t have anything to hide. I was just following advice.”

  “Oh, I know. Maybe Crystal had always intended to let them search her place? To make you look bad and shift the blame to you?”

  Julie’s face turns from perfect porcelain to beet red. “That scheming mean girl strikes again. I wish she’d find a hole and bury herself in it up to her neck!”

  Well, this is working better than I could’ve hoped. “I’d call Dylan over and beg him to search your place if I was you. Can’t let Crystal win, right?”

  “Yeah.” Julie’s chewing her thumbnail in thought. “Why not?” She calls out, “Hey, Dylan?” She curls her fingers in a come-hither motion.

  Dylan glances up from his phone and then walks closer, but stops a few feet away. Probably to avoid seeing something embarrassing. “Yes?”

  Julie throws her shoulders back. “What do I have to do to let you search my house and car? I’m ready.”

  Dylan glances my way fighting a little grin. “I’ll call the officers in charge, and they’ll be right here. Thank you for helping with Chad’s case.”

  Julie jerks a shoulder. “I want the killer found as much as anyone.”

  Bam. Two for two today.

  Hopefully the searches don’t turn out to find “nothing significant” like Wade’s did. Now that the mystery customer is out of the picture, I think the women worked together to kill Chad.

  Chapter 15

  While still waiting to hear about the search warrant for the Admiral’s safe deposit box, Dylan and I unload the groceries at my house. I sent Cooper home with Brittany for the afternoon in case we get the call from the bank. It’s the longest I’ve been away from my adorable little dog, and I miss him. Who knew I’d ever be able to fall in love again so quickly? It hasn’t worked with any of the men I’ve met since Dylan, but at least I know that part of my heart still works.

  Just as I’ve put the last of the veggies in the fridge, Dylan’s phone rings. Is it about the search warrant at the bank?

  His blue eyes cut to mine as he listens to the caller. Then he shakes his head and leaves the kitchen to finish up his conversation. A part of me is disappointed and another part happy that maybe we can still get to the note before the search warrant comes through. Maybe the Admiral will be well enough to meet us right when the bank opens in the morning.

  I’m folding the cloth grocery bags when Dylan joins me again. “Michael Jones’s story about his mother’s operation checked out. He was just passing through town on his way south. They’re searching Julie’s house and car now. Her mother gave them access.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot that she lives with her mother.”

  Dylan nods as he slips into the nook with a frown. “What’s this Madge tells me about you guys reenacting the crime tonight?”

  Madge’s big mouth works both ways. “You don’t think that’s a good idea?” I pour two cups of coffee, doctor up his, and then slide in across from him.

  “No.” He takes a long drink from his cup and then sets it down. “If the murderer feels cornered, who knows what he or she will do. This isn’t the movies, Sawyer.”

  His phone dings with a text, so he picks it up and reads the screen. “They got the search warrant for the Admiral’s box. Let’s go.”

  By the time I chug half my coffee Dylan is already at the front door. “Wait up. I have to find my purse.” I look around the kitchen, but it’s not there. I finally spot it on the little table by the front door with my keys, so I scoop them both up.

  Dylan breathes down my neck as I turn the key and then slip it back into my purse. “All set.”

  “About time.” He takes my arm and practically carries me down the steps along with him. “We need to hurry. They won’t wait for us. Actually, the cops don’t know we’re going to be there. Let me do the talking, please.”

  I’m jogging to keep up with his long strides. “Why wouldn’t I have a right to be there? It’s my letter!”

  “Because you were at the scene of the crime too, Sawyer. I know you didn’t do it, but they don’t. I’m hoping we get lucky and they’ll need an interpreter for your mother’s handwriting.”

  That makes sense. The Admiral said my mom sat down and wrote the note out and then handed him a sealed envelope. The cops have handwriting experts, but it’d be faster if I read it to them. “This all seems a little unfair. Just saying.”

  “Agreed.” Dylan is still half carrying me by his side. “If the killer is who I think it is, we need this information now, not after the lab works on it in a day or two. The murderer is going to act again. I can feel it.”

  That makes my heart pump faster, not only from the running. “Whoever it is will give up once I find the hidden things, right?”

  “That was what I’d hoped at first, but things have come to light that have changed my theory.”

  “What thing—?”

  Dylan holds up a hand to cut me off. “I can’t discuss it.”

  “Seriously? Then don’t say stuff like that. It just makes my imagination run wild.”

  He sighs. “It’s a money thing.” We’re in the bank parking lot, so Dylan picks up speed. “The killer might get desperate enough to take the hidden items from you by force. After killing once, it’s easy to do it again.”

  My stomach hurts all of a sudden. “Maybe I don’t want to know what’s in that letter.”

  “Too late.” We bolt up the steps and slide to a stop in front of the bank manager, Mr. Sanchez.

  Dylan asks, “Are they still here?”

  “Yep. Follow me.” Mr. Sanchez leads the way to the vault filled with men in suits and little locked boxes lining the walls.

  One of the cops turns and holds up a hand. “Sheriff. You don’t need to be here.”

  “Realize that.” Dylan smiles and holds up both hands like he’s just the small-town cop they think he is. “You’ve never tried to read Zoe’s handwriting. Thought you might need some help.” Dylan moves me in front of him like I’m our invitation to the party. “This is Sawyer Davis. The person the note is intended for.”

  “Hang on,” the tall man in the black suit says to the gray-clad man with his gloved hands inside the box. “You want her to verify?”

  Mr. Gray Suit nods. “Couldn’t hurt.” He holds up a white #10 envelope. “Do you recognize this handwriting? If so, what do you think this says?”

  I smile. This guy wouldn’t be the first to think my mom learned to write from a Martian. “It is my mother’s handwriting, and that’s my name on the front.”

  Gray Suit frowns. “A nickname?”

  “No. Sawyer. Tilt your head a little to the right, and the envelope to the left. It’s all in the angle.”

  Dylan quietly chuckles as the cop in the gray suit contorts his body and the envelope to try to see what I’m seeing.

  Finally, Gray Suit says, “Maaaybe?”

  Mr. Dark Suit asks, “Is it the only envelope in the box?”

  When Gray Suit nods, Mr. Black Suit says, “Okay. We’ll bag it. Thanks for your help, Ms. Davis.”

  “Wait.” Dylan jumps in. “The Admiral was hurt over the contents of that letter. I still have a whole town full of folks to protect while you take the time to analyze that. Why don’t we let Sawyer read it? You can verify after. It could save another life.”

  Gray Suit and Dark Suit go to the back of the vault for a consult. While they make a phone call, Dylan whispers, “Do you have a recording app on your phone?”

  I shake my head. “Why would I have one of those? Don’t you have one?”

  “Can’t use mine. Download one. Now.”

  “Fine.” I scan the app store and start downloading the first one I see with decent ratings. It c
osts me four bucks but hopefully will reap much more than that.

  I’m begging the little circle that indicates how much time is left for the download to move faster as the suits continue their debate with whoever they have on the phone with them. Gray Suit says something about the worst handwriting ever and that the Admiral confirmed the note was intended for me.

  Finally, the download circle is complete, so I poke the “get” icon, and the app opens up. I start reading the directions, impressed with all the features I just got for so little money, when Dylan whispers, “Just hit Record now and put it in your front shirt pocket.”

  I whisper back, “Only guys carry phones there. Besides, this blouse is too flimsy. They’ll see it weigh down the pocket.”

  Dylan takes my phone and tucks it into my top pocket. Then he frowns and takes it back out. “You’re right.” He grabs Mr. Sanchez, who is still standing behind us, and slips it into his top shirt pocket. “Stay right behind Sawyer, please.”

  Mr. Sanchez smiles and winks at me, apparently amused by the whole situation. He probably doesn’t think the suits should’ve taken over Dylan’s case either. Why else would he have agreed to call Dylan when the others got here to search?

  After much debate, the men return, and Mr. Gray Suit opens the letter with his gloved hands. Then he holds it up. “Do you need for me to tilt it or something?”

  “No.” I lean my head to the right and try not to think about my mom sitting in the Admiral’s house writing it. I want to cry, but there’s no time for that. “It says, Dear Sawyer, if you’re reading this, then you’ve decided not to stay in Sunset Cove. While this saddens me, I understand. I’m sure you tried your hardest to make things work. Your father and I didn’t make it easy on you girls, because being an individual in this town isn’t an easy thing to accomplish. Please don’t ever forget to embrace what makes you special.”

  I have to stop and blink back my tears. As hard as I always tried to fit in here, part of me needed to go away and see what it’d be like to live in anonymity. It wasn’t as great as I thought it’d be.

  After clearing my throat, I keep reading. “In case this falls into hands that are not Sawyer’s, particularly my brother’s, I’ll leave clues that I know only Sawyer will understand. The first item can be found inside the chest that used to hold your imagination and dreams, remember? One that reading often will eventually reveal.”