by Cat Chandler
“You make the best coffee, dear. A body would have to make the two-hour drive to San Francisco to find one better. And maybe not even then.” Maxie took an appreciative sniff. “I’m sure Viola will enjoy every drop as I explain to her that she’s overstayed her welcome.”
As Nicki’s mouth dropped open, Maxie turned on her very fashionable heels and disappeared into the hallway leading to the front of the townhouse. The two women left in the kitchen blinked at each other before scrambling after Maxie, stopping in the living room to peek out through the curtains.
It only took their landlady a minute to reach the front door of the residence on the other side of the cul-du-sac. Nicki frowned when Viola apparently didn’t answer the door, because Maxie started to go around to the rear gate. Alarmed that the confrontation might get out of hand if Maxie suddenly appeared in the backyard without an invitation or notice, Nicki made a beeline for the front door with Jenna right behind her.
The two friends sprinted across the street and the small side lawn. Nicki was panting by the time she reached for the gate. She was about to push it open a little wider and slip through when her reflexes had her suddenly jumping back, covering her mouth to stifle a startled yelp as Maxie came barreling toward her, holding her cell phone up to her ear.
“Fran, I need to talk to Chief Turnlow right now.”
Chief Turnlow? Soldoff’s current chief of police? A lump of dread settled into the pit of Nicki’s stomach. This couldn’t be good. She motioned to Jenna to stay with Maxie before edging past the partially opened gate and into the yard. This was the only townhouse that sported a lap pool in the yard, along with a nice-sized patio.
Nicki slowly walked across the cement surface, her nose wrinkling at the increasingly strong smell of liquor. She was still ten feet away when she saw the body face down in the water, right next to the steps leading into the pool.
Nicki stood, staring at the bleached-blond hair fanned out around the head. The color, along with the short, rounded shape of the body outlined by the wet clothes clinging to it, didn’t leave much doubt that it was Viola Richards.
One of her shoes was missing, and when Nicki caught herself wondering where it was, she shook her head to clear it. Taking small shallow breaths, Nicki managed a thorough look around while she slowly backed out along the same path that she’d taken in.
Hoping Fran, the police department’s only clerk, had been able to track down Chief Turnlow, Nicki passed back through the gate just as myMason’s truck careened to a stop right in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The former police chief leaped out of the cab and ran across the pavement, not stopping until he had his arms securely around his wife. Even as he ran a soothing hand up and down her back, Mason Edwards fixed a hard stare on Nicki.
“Viola?” When Nicki nodded, Mason jerked his head back toward the road. “The chief will be here any minute. I talked to him on the way over.” He glanced at Maxie when she pushed against his chest.
“I’m fine.” She looked up into her husband’s face. “Well, maybe not fine. But at least I’m not going to fall apart.”
While the couple quietly talked to each other, Jenna leaned over and whispered, “didn’t you promise a certain someone that you wouldn’t get involved in any murders while he was gone?”
Nicki bit her lip. “Not precisely.”
“Uh huh. Sure. So, I wonder just how you’re going to explain this to Matt?” She lifted her wrist and peered at her watch. “Who will be calling you in just about an hour.”
Chapter One Hundred Four
Nicki looked around at the sound of a car rounding the corner. The police cruiser pulled up next to Mason Edwards’ truck that was still parked in the middle of the street. Chief Turnlow stepped out, settling his hat on his head as he looked over at the group gathered in front of the townhouse.
When his gaze swept over the three women standing together, Nicki could see his shoulders and chest rise in a long sigh. In the past, the chief had made his feelings well known about amateur detectives sticking their noses into his cases. Or more specifically, her getting involved in snooping around.
Bracing herself for another lecture, and this one completely undeserved since she wasn’t the one who’d found the body, Nicki quietly watched Mason Edwards cross the small lawn to meet Chief Turnlow halfway to the backyard gate. The two men greeted each other with a brief handshake followed by a friendly slap on the back.
Chief Turnlow towered over his predecessor and had a much more solid build than the trim and fit Mason. But they shared the same flat cop stare and serious expression as they talked quietly. The current chief frowned as he glanced over at Maxie before nodding at her husband as the two of them began to make their way toward the backyard.
Too curious to simply stand around until the two men returned, Nicki waited until they’d disappeared around the corner before following along behind, keeping as quiet as she could. The gate was wide open, and the two chiefs were looking over the edge of the pool when Nicki stepped up next to Mason Edwards and leaned over to stare into the quiet water.
Viola was still floating near the steps, less than five feet away, fully clothed except for the missing shoe. Nicki’s gaze tracked away from the poor woman toward the small glint of color at the bottom of the pool. Squinting, she could make out the outline of a bottle. It had the square shape of the type used for hard liquor, as opposed to the more graceful curves of a wine bottle.
Which had Nicki frowning.
Over the four or five dinners she’d shared with the short, outspoken genealogist, Viola had never requested anything but wine. Of course, the woman might have assumed that’s all Nicki had since she did write articles for Food & Wine Online, not to mention a personal blog that spent a fair amount of time on the subject, but still, it struck her as odd.
When she leaned over further, trying to make out the label on the bottle, Mason’s arm shot out to keep her from taking a step closer and maybe tumbling into the water. He briefly shook his head and pointed to the ground. At the edge of the pool was a distinct smear of a dark color that led right up to the edge of the pool.
Blood. Nicki bit her lower lip as she stared at it.
Chief Turnlow straightened up and glanced toward the sliding doors at the back of the house. “Looks like she had too much to drink and fell and hit her head before ending up in the pool.” He drew in a deep breath and stuck his thumbs into his belt. “Could be an accident.”
“Looks like it,” Mason agreed.
The current chief shrugged. “Could be.”
Nicki suspected that spending twenty years in the homicide division of the Los Angeles Police Department had made Chief Turnlow a little more cynical about sudden deaths than the former chief was.
“You think she had a late night, had one too many, wandered out here, and ended up drowning in the pool?” Mason nodded. “That fits what I’m seeing.”
The Soldoff police chief removed his hat and ran a hand across the thinning hair on top of his head. “Makes sense, but we’ll have to wait and hear what the coroner says.”
Keeping very quiet, Nicki tagged along behind the two men as they moved around the patio. When the trio passed the sliding glass doors, she stopped long enough to get a good look inside. The living room was sparsely furnished. Nicki remembered Maxie saying she’d had at least some furniture moved in, so Viola had a place to sit while she was staying there. From her quick scan of the room it didn’t look as if anything had been disturbed.
She was still peering through the glass when there was a sharp tap on her shoulder. Briefly scrunching her face up at what she knew was coming, Nicki smoothed out her features and curved her lips into a smile before turning around to face Chief Turnlow.
She raised a hand up in greeting. “Hi.”
“Ms. Connors.” The chief raised an eyebrow. “Seen enough?”
Nicki’s brow furrowed while she pretended to consider the question. “A look inside would be nice.”
When the c
hief rolled his eyes, she smiled. “But I think I’ll go out front and wait with Jenna and Maxie.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Ms. Connors.”
Knowing the chief only called her that whenever he was annoyed with her, Nicki did her best to look as innocent as she could, but the chief only raised his hand and silently pointed one finger in the direction of the gate. With little other choice, Nicki gave him her most angelic smile before walking off to join her friends.
“Well?” Jenna demanded as she got closer.
Nicki looked at the front of the townhouse and frowned. “Maxie, does this unit have the same floor plan as mine?”
The landlady nodded. “Of course, dear. And the exact mirror of Jenna’s, since her townhouse is attached to yours. Why do you ask?”
“Then those windows over there would be to the same room I use for my office?” Nicki pointed to a large window to the left of the front door.
“Why yes, they would be…” Maxie trailed off as Nicki sprinted away.
Underneath the window was a row of bushy green plants that Nicki had to negotiate her way around before she could peek through the open curtains. From the look of the laptop set up on the desk, it seemed as if Viola had used the room the same way that Nicki did. She’d barely registered that this room was also neat and tidy before she heard her name called out from somewhere behind her.
“Ms. Connors? I’d like to have that talk now.”
“Certainly, Chief,” Nicki called back.
“You’ll need to find your way out of those bushes first.”
The exaggerated politeness in the chief’s voice wasn’t fooling Nicki for a second. She’d bet her next check from Food & Wine Online that she was in for a lecture on minding her own business. Sighing at being caught snooping once again, Nicki thrashed her way out from behind the leafy barrier and walked over to where the chief and the rest of her friends were waiting.
“Didn’t notice that you had on any lights and sirens when you came driving up, Chief.” Jenna smiled when the big man looked over at her. “Has Nicki stumbled across so many dead bodies that they don’t rate the full PD treatment anymore?”
“Didn’t see any need to start the gossip mill, and I got here fast enough. That’s all that was necessary.” Chief Turnlow glanced at Maxie. “It’s my understanding that Nicki didn’t find this one.”
“That’s right, Paul. I did,” Maxie confirmed with a nod. “But Nicki was right behind me.”
Her husband laughed. “I’m sure no one would be surprised at that, honey.” Mason looked toward the road leading into the cul-de-sac. “Where’s your deputy this morning, Chief?”
“Danny’s off today. I told Fran to track him down.” The chief smiled at Maxie. “I would like to ask you a few questions if you’re up to it.” Once she’d politely nodded, the chief turned his gaze on Nicki. “And after I make sure you and Jenna get home all right.”
Jenna snorted. “Which won’t be hard since we’ll only be walking across the street.”
“Then you’d better get to it, Ms. Lindstrom.”
The computer geek laughed. “That’s not what you called me when your system went wonky last week.”
The chief’s mouth twitched at the corners as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “For which you were paid a fair price.”
“Uh huh.” Jenna didn’t look at all convinced of that, but she only shrugged. “I’ll go quietly.”
As she strolled off, Chief Turnlow crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Nicki. “Well?”
She blinked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“Did you notice anything you’d like to share with me?”
Nicki imitated Jenna’s casual shrug. “Not that you probably didn’t notice yourself.”
“Try me, Nicki.”
Glad to at least be off the chief’s blacklist enough to be called by her given name, Nicki frowned as she brought up the murder scene in her mind. “Well, the body was in the pool, obviously, fully dressed except for one shoe.”
“Which is at the bottom of the pool,” the chief stated, then gestured for her to continue.
Nicki bit her lower lip, trying to visualize it. “So it could have come off when she fell in. The liquor bottle was at the bottom of the pool too, but I couldn’t make out the label well enough to tell what had been in it.”
“Scotch,” the chief supplied.
“Which I’ve never seen her drink at the dinners she’s had at my place.”
“Maybe she didn’t think you had any,” the chief speculated. “You are better known for wine than hard liquor.”
“Then she likely would have brought a bottle with her to drink,” Nicki said. “But I don’t think she drank the bottle that ended up in the pool either.”
Mason, who’d been listening quietly to the exchange, made a sound of surprise. “Why not?”
The petite blond smiled at him. “Because the place reeked of the smell. Most of it must have been poured onto the ground rather than in her mouth.”
“Must have been poured?” Chief Turnlow repeated. “As in you believe someone else poured the liquor onto the patio and into the bushes?”
“Maybe,” Nicki said slowly. “It just seems a bit strange for Viola to be drinking Scotch. Especially so early in the morning.”
The chief uncrossed his arms and lowered his brows over his eyes. “She could have gone into the pool late last night or very early this morning. All within the realm of a usual time to have a drink or two before bed.”
“But she wasn’t dressed for bed,” Nicki said, remembering the dark-brown pants and bright-red top Viola had been wearing. “And I don’t think the smell would have been so strong if Viola had spilled that liquor all over hours ago.” She paused to take a breath. “And then there was the body being near the steps.”
“What about it?” Mason asked.
“There was a breeze last night, but I noticed there wasn’t any this morning when I took my usual run and then made a quick trip to the store for a carton of milk.” She shrugged. “I think that the body would have drifted further down the pool if there had been any kind of breeze.”
“A strong smell and no breeze?” Mason smiled as he shook his head. “I think you see murder everywhere, Nicki. Sometimes an accident is only an accident.”
Nicki wasn’t so sure about that in the case of Viola Richards, and judging by the thoughtful look Chief Turnlow was giving her, she’d bet the chief didn’t think so either.
“Well, hopefully the autopsy will tell us something. I’ve called the coroner. He’s on his way.” The chief placed the hat he’d been holding in his hand on top of his head and rolled up onto the balls of his feet.
Uh oh, here it comes, Nicki thought.
“Got a call a couple of weeks ago from Chief Thomas.”
Surprised, Nicki smiled. “From Henley Bay? How is he?”
Chief Turnlow laughed. “Fine. He said things have quieted down since you and your crime-solving friends have left town.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You did a good job up there, Sherlock. And I understand you wanted to help Alex get her wedding done on time, but I can’t say I liked hearing about it.”
Maxie smiled as she slipped a hand around her husband’s arm. “You sound like a concerned father, Chief.”
The big man ducked his head slightly and looked uncomfortable enough that Nicki felt sorry for him.
“The most dangerous thing we did in Henley Bay was ice seven hundred or so cupcakes,” Nicki said. She looked at Maxie. “Isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely,” her landlady immediately agreed. “I can assure you, the biggest threat we had was death by a sugar overload of icing.”
The police chief cleared his throat. “Well, that’s good to hear, and not exactly the way Chief Thomas tells it. But you’re home now, and I have another dead body on my hands that I don’t want any of you to become involved with.”
“I think that’s excellent advice,” Mason put in,
which earned him a sniff from his wife.
“I can’t simply ignore this, dear. Viola was my guest, here on our property. And I’ve known her for years.”
Nicki coughed to cover a laugh. Hadn’t Maxie said not a half hour earlier that she’d barely known the woman? When Chief Turnlow narrowed his eyes, Nicki folded her hands in front of her and pretended to be engrossed in studying the flowers lining the walkway.
“What about you, Sherlock? How well did you know Viola Richards?”
“I had dinner with her a few times, Chief. That’s all. And the only thing I can tell you is that I never saw her drink Scotch.”
The chief nodded. “So you said. Then there isn’t any reason for us to continue this discussion?”
Since she’d made a quick peek at her watch and realized she had exactly three minutes before Matt would be calling from Paris, Nicki quickly shook her head. “No reason at all, Chief Turnlow.”
“Good. Then I’ll call you if I have any more questions.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I have your number.”
Happy to have dodged a lengthy lecture from the chief, Nicki gave a wave as she turned and sprinted back across the street. She made it to her comfortable, ergonomically correct chair just as her computer rang with a Skype call. Taking a deep breath, Nicki clicked the appropriate icons and brought up Matt’s easy smile.
Chapter One Hundred Five
“Hi, Matt.”
Nicki didn’t think she’d ever get used to how adorable the owner and editor of Food & Wine Online looked. His thick mop of dark hair that tended to hang over his large black-rimmed glasses was even more appealing when it was accompanied by his boyish grin. With his tall, lean build and dark eyes, Matt bore a definite resemblance to the main character in “Where’s Waldo”.
“Hi, honey. You look great.”
She laughed. Matt always said she looked great, even when she was in sweatpants, a tank top, and with hair that hadn’t seen a brush or comb for the last several hours.
