Let Sleeping Dogs Lie (Hewey Spader Mystery Series Book 3)

by Tanya R. Taylor

  LET SLEEPING DOGS

  LIE

  HEWEY SPADER COZY MYSTERY SERIES

  BOOK THREE

  Tanya R. Taylor

  Copyright© 2021 Tanya R. Taylor

  All Rights Reserved.

  No portion of this work may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form without the written consent of the Author.

  This is a fictitious work in its entirety. The author bears no responsibility for any possible similarities concerning names, places or events.

  CONTENTS

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  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

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  Thank you, Oswaldo, Christian and Mercedes, for making my world bright and for being my inspiration. You are deeply loved. xxx

  1

  _________________

  I wasn’t sure how to feel after my long distance call with Rob ended. It was the first time we’d spoken since we’d grown up and pretty much went our separate ways. Our hometown of Eppington had been left far behind since the three of us—Rob, Sam, and I—had escaped to college, each starting over in a new city, and in Sam’s case, a new country. Rob and I had communicated regularly, but soon, the phone calls became less and less frequent. On the other hand, Sam and I had kept in touch for the longest time until shortly after she’d met a guy in college whom she referred to as her soulmate. Not wanting to crowd her, I eventually decided it was best to just give her her space.

  When we were teenagers, I’d secretly hoped that someday Sam would think of me as more than a best friend. Goodness knows I loved the girl to the moon and back, and worshipped the ground she walked on. Never mind the fact that she wasn’t a girly girl and she dressed like a tomboy. As far as I was concerned, she was all woman and everything I needed in my life.

  But I never got around to telling her that.

  Deep inside, I wondered if she’d ever once considered giving me the time of day. Forget about all the mischievous things she, Rob, Jase and I did as kids and the times we hung out together on the top floor of the distillery after school spying on our neighbors, especially Mrs. Johnette Christie, who was later murdered during that questionable period in our lives. And who could forget Mr. and Mrs. Rivera a couple of doors down; not to mention the old grouch, Julio Perez, who lived next door to the saintly couple. Mr. Clyde Rivera, once a God-fearing man had been jailed for murdering Mrs. Christie, also during that questionable period. As it turns out, they were secret lovers.

  The guys and I had spent countless hours on Lake Olivia fishing which was our favorite pastime. Considering the amount of time Sam and I had spent together, though largely in the company of Rob and Jase, you’d think she would’ve viewed me as her soulmate instead of some strange guy she’d meet years later in college. No one else on the planet understood the girl better than I did and that should’ve counted for something. But I guess it didn’t.

  So, what’s a young man to do other than to cut his losses and move on to the next cutie pie willing to give him the time of day? And that’s exactly what I did.

  After finishing college with a computer engineering degree—an accomplishment my folks were immensely proud of since I’d been a goof-off for most of my high school years—I remained in New Mexico and worked for a large software company. I’d put in eighteen years there and loved every minute of it. However, after raking in enough cash to pay off my condo and leaving a healthy chunk of it in the bank, I decided to start my own business. All of a sudden, I was the one doing the hiring and earning much more on my own than I’d ever thought possible.

  Sam had become a hotshot attorney in France, and Rob, who’d fallen in love with sunny Florida, opened up a couple of bistros there in Orlando.

  Decades had passed since any of us had set eyes on each other and that phone call I’d made to Rob that cloudy day in July was the catalyst that would bring the three of us full circle. After graduating high school, we’d never uttered a single word to one another regarding our experience many years ago in our hometown of Eppington until that day I’d spoken with Rob. I realized that he, too, never truly found peace of mind, knowing our best friend, Jase, and his mother had disappeared without a trace.

  I left the task up to Rob to contact Sam since he’d actually seen her a year earlier when she was in Orlando with her husband to take care of some business. She and Rob had exchanged phone numbers then, though none had bothered to contact each other ever since. Rob had told me he didn’t get a good vibe from the husband who was at least a foot taller than he was and looked like a bodybuilder. Maybe it was a jealousy thing on the husband’s part and Rob was wondering if Sam should’ve offered to give him her number in the first place. In any event, I left it to him to get in touch with her as I certainly didn’t want to stir up anything between Sam and her supposed soulmate. Rob admitted they’d only spoken for a few minutes, reminiscing on old times. Jase’s name came up, but as the mood subsequently changed, they parted ways with a great big hug and the promise of “catching up”.

  It was a few days later when I got a call from Rob saying that Sam agreed for us to meet in Eppington three weeks later. My folks’ house would be the venue. We had one mission in mind and it was to get to the bottom of what happened to Jase and his mom once and for all.

  2

  _________________

  I can’t describe how nervous I was knowing I was about to see Sam again after being apart for so long. As I quietly sat in the plane contemplating our reunion with my head leaning against the head rest, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when we met. Would I hug her or just say hello? It was bound to be an awkward moment; in fact, I was convinced of it. I’d never forgotten her radiant smile or the sound of her voice. There was no way I possibly could. Truth be told—if I’d thought about her once since the last day I’d seen her, I’d thought about her a million times. What was so strange was I didn’t remember having such strong feelings towards her when we were kids, compared to when we’d all moved away. Maybe it was that not missing the water ‘til the well runs dry sort of deal. I really think that’s it. Anyway, the day of reckoning was here. I tried to clear my head of all the distracting thoughts and to keep focused on the mission at hand which was the most important thing.

  “Are you all right, deary?” The lovely old lady sitting next to me asked.

  She had a heavenly glow about her narrow, little face and a demeanor like that of my sweet grandma who’d passed away when I was nine. She was short and thin—with shoulder-length gray hair.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I answered with a slight smile.

  “I only asked, son, because you seem to have a lot on your mind.”

  “It’s that obvious?” I arched my brows, moving my head away from the head rest.

  “I’m afraid so,” she replied. “I always make it a point to ask if someone is all right whenever the thought crosses my mind because these days, so many people are keepin
g dreadful things to themselves that they have no business carrying alone. We can all use a listening ear or helping hand from time to time. Don’t you agree?”

  “To be honest, I’m going home to see a couple of friends I hadn’t seen in ages,” I told her. “A bit nervous about it, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I see! Well, if that’s all it is, that’s quite all right then.” She quickly patted my knee. “If it’s any consolation, just reminisce on all the good times you all have shared and gradually, you should feel that nervousness going away. Works for me every time.”

  I nodded, appreciatively. “That’s great advice, ma’am. Thank you.”

  “Glad to have been of help.”

  I retreated to my former position; this time shutting my eyes. The old lady’s humble suggestion was one I’d decided to take. As pleasant scenes of when the guys and I were kids sailed through my mind, it wasn’t long before I drifted right off to sleep.

  * * * *

  It seemed like hours had passed before I’d heard the woman’s voice again.

  “Sonny, you’d better wake up now!”

  I felt a feeble shake of my arm.

  “Huh?” I opened my eyes, trying to remember exactly where I was.

  “The pilot just said that we’ll be arriving shortly, so I didn’t want you to get left behind in this plane,” she said.

  Getting myself together, I laughed at the idea, though rather weakly. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re very welcome, deary.”

  Our descent at the Eppington International Airport was as smooth as could be, and thankfully, the entire flight from New Mexico was largely uneventful. I felt a bit tired and looked forward to grabbing a hot cup of cappuccino from the airport’s deli.

  I checked my wristwatch the moment the plane landed. It was 10:35 A.M.

  “Well, we’re here,” the old lady said. “Thankfully, we’ve all arrived in one piece.”

  “Yeah.” I agreed.

  As the hatch opened and she, along with others stood to gather their items, I remained seated by the window.

  Slowly, dozens of passengers trailed past our row toward the exit.

  “Aren’t you coming?” the lady asked with her purse in hand or do you want them to fly you right back to New Mexico?”

  I chuckled. “I’d rather wait for everyone else to leave first.”

  “My! That’s really generous of you! Well, it was nice meeting you.”

  “It was nice meeting you too.”

  “I’m Trudy, by the way. Surname’s Balfour.” She extended her hand.

  “Hewey Spader.” I returned the handshake.

  She stepped out into the aisle and gradually trailed along with the others ahead of her. I gathered she wasn’t an Eppington native because I would’ve recognized the accent.

  As the last four persons were leaving the aircraft, I got up and reached overhead for my luggage. A lovely stewardess kindly shut the compartment for me after I’d grabbed the bags.

  “Thanks so much,” I told her.

  “My pleasure.” She smiled. “Thanks for flying with us.”

  The first thing I did was made my way to the nearest deli and grabbed that cappuccino I desperately wanted. I prefer cappuccino over regular coffee as it tends to give me that boost I often need throughout the day.

  Outside, I caught a waiting cab and within a half an hour of landing, I was on my way to my parent’s house.

  3

  _________________

  Three years had passed since I’d flown back home for a visit. The last time I was there was to attend our parents’ funeral after they’d both been killed in an horrific car accident. I’d kept in touch with my brother, Carl, but avoided our house because I knew it would bring back so many memories I just wasn’t ready to deal with. Losing two parents at the same time was a heavy blow for both of us. I realized to some degree it was selfish of me to have not returned sooner, knowing that Carl had to face the reality of their loss every day since he’d never bothered to move out of the house. But I’d convinced myself that I had to be in touch with my feelings, aware of what I could handle and allow myself time to grieve in my own way in order to protect my sanity.

  Our folks meant everything to Carl and me. We used to be a tight-knit family and every year after I’d moved away, I either came back to see them or paid for a vacation for all of us to meet up somewhere else. My family was all I had despite the distance between us, and when Mom and Dad died, I felt I’d lost a huge part of my identity. Suddenly, I no longer had folks and even as a grown man, I can’t begin to express how that reality truly affected me.

  After entering my subdivision, the closer we got to the house, the more unsure I was of my feelings about being there. I knew I had to be strong because I hated the feeling of being out of control.

  Carl was outside working on his red motorbike when my cab pulled up in front of the house. He was wearing some faded jeans and a white spotted tee shirt. Despite his scruffy appearance, he still had that baby face which made him look like he’d barely aged since we were teenagers.

  Carl was a mechanic by trade, as evident by the vehicles he had on jack stands in front of our folks’ house. Mom used to give him a hard time for having a lot of cars in the yard at once, especially the ones that looked like they belonged in the junk yard instead. She said harboring vehicles like that for extended periods brought down the quality of the neighborhood. Carl did manage to upkeep the house though—fresh paint every year, clean windows and a well-manicured lawn. He had pride in his surroundings which spilled over into his work. He was one of the best mechanics in town and as quickly as he managed to clear up cars from in front of our house, others would be brought there for service or repair.

  Fortunately, he was permitted to operate his small mechanic business in our neighborhood since none of the neighbors complained, and he hadn’t any signage. Saved him overhead expenses, for sure.

  I reached over and paid the cab driver, got out of the vehicle and grabbed my luggage from the popped trunk. Carl looked at me, stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. His expression was blank; much different than I was used to.

  As the cab drove away, I walked towards him. “Hey, li’l brother! How are you doing?”

  “Okay,” he replied, as I got within a few feet of him.

  I dropped the luggage and gave him a big hug, but I could feel the coldness.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked. “You don’t look that thrilled to see me.”

  He wiped off his hands with the old rag he was holding. “Good to see you. How long will you be here?” He led the way to the front door.

  “A couple of weeks at least.”

  “Okay. Well…your room is pretty much the way you left it when you were here three years ago.” He walked inside and held the door the open for me. “And you can probably remember where everything else is.”

  “Yeah.” I set the luggage down again and looked at him as we stood awkwardly together in the living room.

  “Anyway, I’m gonna get cleaned up, then I’ll be going out for a while,” he added, before starting down the hallway.

  “Carl…”

  “Yeah?” He turned around.

  “What’s up with you? You don’t seem like yourself.”

  “Me?” He took a few steps forward. “You’re the one who’s changed, Hewey. You went away, became a big shot and only looked back at us once or twice a year whenever you were good and ready. I was here with Mom and Dad, taking care of everything they needed while you lived the good life.”

  “That’s a damn lie and you know it, Carl! I never turned my back on any of you. Mom and Dad needed for nothing because I made sure they didn’t. How could you say such a thing?”

  “You think just because you showed up here, you deserve some special privilege, huh? I’m not Mom and Dad, Hewey. I don’t kiss up to anybody. He sucked his teeth. “I’m not getting into this. I’m gonna take a shower.”

  He continued d
own the hallway toward the bathroom.

  I shook my head and sauntered over to the window at the southern side of the living room. Looking outside, I recalled the countless times Carl and I had rolled our bicycles on that side of the house from the backyard where they were often kept. He was annoying even back then, but we got along. I wasn’t sure what had happened.

  Turning to my right towards where the kitchen stood, I envisioned Mom there making breakfast while Dad sat at the counter reading the newspaper. That was pretty much their early morning routine and I remember being so happy and feeling secure as a kid just having them as my folks. Then there were pictures of all of us on the walls; some were of Mom and Dad only and others of us as a family. Within minutes, the emotions I thought I’d conquered overwhelmed me as the memories came flooding back. I sat on the sofa, covered my face and just wept. Everywhere reminded me of my folks and in my mind, I could even hear their voices still. It’s the very reason I’d stayed away for so long. I wanted more than anything to avoid those feelings and now I was thinking that maybe I’d returned too soon.

  After a good cry, I got up and went into my parents’ room, but only stood at the door. The first place my eyes landed were on their king-sized bed. It was neatly draped with Mom’s favorite bedspread and her dresser still had all her favorite perfumes on top. Dad’s brown robe was hanging on the standing rack near his bureau and I could see him wearing it as he walked about the house. More tears fell, but by then, I knew I’d already gotten out a lot of what I had bottled up inside for so long.

  “I love you both,” I whispered, before leaving the room.