by Sam Cheever
“I sent a deputy to the house after we pulled Robb in, and he said there was a dust-free rectangle on Robb’s shelves that perfectly matches that box. The arrogant jerk left the box right out in plain sight.”
“Ugh!” I said, dropping my face into my hands. “What a pig.”
Arno nodded. “When Robb got back to the party, he pulled the sheriff aside and gave him a wild confession. I saw them talking and thought Robb looked upset but didn’t put the pieces together until much later. Then I talked myself out of it as being too farfetched.”
“Mulhern was counting on that reaction,” I murmured. “He didn’t think anybody would believe he was capable of murder.”
“He was wrong,” Hal said. “When we’re done with him, people will not only believe he’s a killer but that he also had something to do with the high cost of gasoline and skyrocketing inflation.”
Laughing, I asked, “What about Cecily Addams?”
“What about her?” Hal asked.
“I went back to the Fawn Hotel and rewatched the tape.”
“Why?” Arno asked.
Flushing with guilt, I admitted. “I ran into Mayor Robb in front of the diner earlier.”
Arno shook his head. “You’re impossible,” he said, but his lips twitched.
“Whatever. Robb was harassing Tiffany Brooks. I distracted him so she could get away. He told me that Cecily and Pam got into a big fight right before Pam was killed, so I thought Cecily might have killed her.” I looked at Hal. “I knew you were going to interview her. When you didn’t answer your phone…”
He pulled me into a quick hug. “Sorry, honey. Things were breaking fast here. In all fairness, I had no idea you’d get yourself into trouble just driving home.”
Arno snorted out a laugh.
“Har,” I said.
“Anyway,” Arno said, “Mulhern apparently agreed to cover for Robb with the investigation if Robb agreed to help get him re-elected as sheriff.”
“See, Mulhern told me that too. But I don’t get it. Why would he even worry about being reelected? He’s popular enough, isn’t he?”
Arno made a face. “On the surface. But recently, I’ve heard rumblings about the fact that he’s so distant from everything that goes through the office. He’s more interested in schmoozing with his influential buddies in Indy.”
“Power always wants to grow,” I said, nodding.
“It probably has as much to do with money as anything,” Arno admitted. “Plus, Mulhern always intended to turn a sheriff’s position into higher office. Politicians gotta politician.”
“What our humble friend isn’t telling you, Joey,” Hal said, “Is that there’s significant interest in him running against Mulhern for sheriff.”
I squealed in delight. “Do it! You basically already do the job. People love and respect you around here. You’re a shoo-in.”
Arno wrenched his brows up in disbelief. “Love me?”
I chuckled. “Yes! Well, those of us who can see beyond the gruff, grumpy, crotchety…”
“All right,” he said, laughing. “I get the picture. Besides, there isn’t currently a sheriff to run against.”
“Even better,” Hal said, clapping him on the back.
“I wouldn’t have the first idea how to run for office.”
“Benson has offered to help you, right?” Hal said.
I clapped my hands, my delight doubling. “Benson can run for mayor again. He’d win too. Especially with Cecily helping him.”
Arno put up his hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll table it for now. But I plan to harass you non-stop until you agree to run.”
Arno grimaced.
“Now, tell me about Prince. How is he, by the way?”
“He’s still out, but the doctors are hopeful. He’s stable and showing signs of waking up.”
“That’s good,” Hal said. “Hopefully, he’ll be able to point the finger at whoever shot him when he comes to.”
“It’s a pretty good bet that Mulhern shot him,” Arno said. “Prince had been spouting off that he knew a secret about Robb. We don’t know how Mulhern found out about it, but we’re speculating the sheriff decided Prince was a risk and went to kill him. Unfortunately for the sheriff, you two showed up before he could get out of Prince’s room and he was forced to flee out the window.”
Hal nodded. “What happened to Pam Wickham is a little more complex. She and Calliente were, as far as we can tell, blackmailing Mayor Robb over his disgusting and illegal activities. I don’t know how long it had been going on, but I suspect, since Calliente Catering had done several events that Robb either hosted or attended, she and her fiancé had been watching Robb spin his filthy web with numerous women for a while.”
“When the box of damning evidence didn’t turn up at Robb’s place,” Arno said, “Wickham was the obvious person to confront over where it was.”
“Benson said he offered to pay Calliente for information on Robb,” I reminded them.
“Which was likely icing on the cake for the blackmailing duo,” Hal said. “They’d already extorted Robb into paying them in cash and connections. Getting paid by Benson Dexter was a fortuitous new development.”
“Ooh,” I said, teasing. “Fortuitous. A ten-dollar word. Very sexy.”
Hal gave me a small bow. “I aim to titillate.”
“Okay,” Arno said, holding up a hand. “There will be no titillating in my office.”
I giggled.
“However the extortion went down,” Hal said, “it’s clear that Robb saw the opportunity to rid himself of the other half of his Calliente problem.”
“Why didn’t Robb just kill Wickham instead of involving the sheriff? I asked. “He clearly knew where she was.” I thought about the security video I’d seen where he looked up to the room above Tiffany’s.
Arno shook his head. “As you know, he was at the hotel when she was killed. My guess is he saw the opportunity to kill her before she went back to Indy. But he couldn’t afford to be blamed for the murder. He used Tiffany Brooks as his alibi and called Mulhern to do his dirty work again.”
“I bet the sheriff was getting pretty sick of the guy at that point,” I said.
“No doubt,” Arno agreed. “This is where it gets interesting. We know that Joshua Magness painted over the camera on that part of the balcony.”
I nodded. “He’d intended to search Pam’s room the next time she was out and didn’t want to be caught on video.”
“Exactly,” Arno agreed. “Apparently, Mulhern took note of the blacked-out camera and knew he couldn’t be seen. He talked his way into Wickham’s room…”
“Not exactly a difficult task with her,” Hal murmured.
“Right,” Arno agreed. “He turned up the music to cover the sounds of the struggle and made quick work of her. Then he turned off the music and, as we saw from the parking lot feed, was back in his car less than twenty minutes later.”
“What about the fictitious maid?” I asked. “We couldn’t find a maid who’d talked to him.”
“That’s because he never talked to one. The maid was just his excuse for not finding the freshly murdered body of Pam Wickham,” Arno said.
“Wow, I said. These people are quite the nest of vipers, aren’t they?”
“It’s hard to imagine that anybody will miss any of them,” Arno agreed.
“Okay,” Hal said, catching me rubbing my temples with my fingers. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“I don’t want to,” I whined.
But he wasn’t having any of it. “I’ll drop you off at the Emergency room and run the Beauty home. It’s too hot for her to stay in the car.”
“Leave her here,” Arno said.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Of course. She’s good company. And if Sheppard comes in and tries to read one of his two-hundred-page reports to me, I can sic her on him.”
“You will not!” I exclaimed as
Hal urged me toward the door.
“Joey,” the cop said, feigning hurt. “What kind of cad do you take me for? I was just kidding.”
I shook my head as Hal opened the door.
“I’ll just dump gravy over his head and let her lick him into submission.”
“Uh…” I started to object.
Hal pushed me gently through the door and closed it behind us.
We stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine and I stopped, closing my eyes and pulling air into my lungs. My focus on the pounding pain of my headache retreated for a beat, taking a temporary backseat to the joy of being alive.
Hal touched my shoulder. “Should I go get the car?”
I started to shake my head and then remembered why I was headed to the hospital as the action sent piercing pain through my skull and radiating down my spine. “No. Just give me a minute.”
He kissed my temple. “Wait here.”
I let him go because it suddenly felt like too much trouble to move. I stood there, letting the heat of the sun soothe the aches stabbing me in several places.
“Joey?”
My eyes shot open. I looked into the gray-blue gaze of my brother, standing five feet away and looking sheepish. “Josh.”
His lips curved in a tentative smile. “You know who I am.”
“I do. Thank you. For helping them find me in time.”
He wrung his hands together, looking at his feet as though embarrassed. “It seemed like the least I could do.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and frowned. “I wanted to apologize for that phone call.”
“Phone call?”
“About Robb. I realized after I hung up that it had probably sounded like a threat. I was only trying to warn you that you were in danger.”
Understanding bloomed in my battered mind. He was referring to the strange call that told me Robb had dangerous friends. “Ah. That phone call.” I grimaced. “It was a little disconcerting. But thanks for the warning. I think.”
He shook his head. “I also apologize for stalking your house. I promise I was only curious.”
Stalking? His words made me curious. “I don’t understand.”
“When the cops picked me up, I was just returning to the car from your house.”
My eyes went wide. “You were at my house? Why didn’t I see you?”
He shrugged. “Probably because I was hiding in the trees. I like your house. Your pets. Your life. I like to imagine what it had been like for you, growing up in that house. In this town. When you and Mr. Amity came home, I left. I didn’t want your dog to find me.”
“But why stand out in the yard? Why not come talk to me?”
“I didn’t know how you’d react to the news of having a long lost brother. From the moment I learned I had another family, my parents have been telling me that you didn’t want to know about me. I thought I was being selfish, wanting to get to know you.” He looked down at his shoes, his color rising. “I didn’t want to mess up your life.”
His thoughts so closely mirrored mine, it made my heart twist with hurt.
Kicking the metal leg of a nearby bench with his sneaker, Josh avoided my gaze. When he looked up again, his face held a hopeful expression. “I was wondering if we could grab lunch sometime…maybe talk.”
Tears flooded my eyes and I smiled. “I’d like that.”
He grinned. “Really?”
I nodded. “I’d like it a lot.”
“Good. I’ll call you?” he offered.
“Yes.” I didn’t ask him if he had my number. I knew he did. Arno was right. Joshua Magness should be a cop or an investigator. I added that to the list of things we would talk about and the thought made everything in my world feel right again. “I’ll see you soon, then?”
“You will.” He turned to go as Hal drove up to the curb. “Bye, Joey.”
I pulled air into my lungs and sighed it out as Josh walked away. My smile trembled a bit and was accompanied by tears, but they were happy tears. “See you soon, Josh,” I whispered.
And then I climbed into the car, scrubbing at the tears sliding down my cheeks.
I had a brother. And I couldn’t wait to get to know him.
* * *
The End
Don’t Miss Out
Stay up on all Sam’s news by joining her newsletter, and get a copy of a fun mystery just for signing up!
* * *
SIGN UP HERE!
https://samcheever.com/newsletter/
Also by Sam Cheever
If you enjoyed Distinguished Bumpkin you might also enjoy these other fun mystery series by Sam. To find out more, visit the BOOKS page at www.samcheever.com:
Country Cousin Mysteries For more fun adventures with Joey, Hal, and Caphy!
Silver Hills Cozy Mysteries
Gainfully Employed Mysteries
Honeybun Heat Series
Enchanting Inquiries Paranormal Cozy Mysteries
Yesterday’s Paranormal Mysteries
Reluctant Familiar Paranormal Mysteries
About the Author
USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes mystery and suspense, creating stories that draw you in and keep you eagerly turning pages. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 100+ books.
To learn more about Sam and her work, visit her at one of her online hotspots:
www.samcheever.com
[email protected]