Sweet Avengers (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 18)

by J A Whiting

  “We’re still piecing things together from the day our mom was hit by the car,” Angie began. “There are a lot of missing pieces.”

  Lindsey sighed. “Why are you doing this to yourselves? If the police couldn’t solve it, I don’t know why you think you can.”

  “Because we have experience solving difficult crimes.” Jenna sat straight.

  “Do you?” Lindsey tilted her head in question.

  “We sometimes work with the police as consultants.”

  “That’s interesting. What do you do, actually?” Lindsey seemed keen to hear what the Roselands did for the police.

  “It’s confidential,” Jenna said. “We aren’t supposed to discuss any of it.”

  “Could you tell us where you were again around the time our mom was hit?” Angie asked.

  Lindsey let out another sigh. “I was about a block away. I hurried over to see what all the fuss was about. I stayed for a minute, and then I left. I had to get to work. I was called in when another nurse had to go home unexpectedly.”

  “And where were you when our mom was brought to the hospital?” Jenna questioned.

  “I was in the emergency department.”

  “Did you see our mother?”

  “Yes, I did. I was right there when they brought her in.”

  “Was she alive?”

  “No, she had already passed away before she arrived at the hospital.” Lindsey looked down at her water bottle.

  “Can you tell us about your relationship with our mother?” Angie asked.

  “We were colleagues and friends,” Lindsey reported. “We didn’t socialize outside of work, but we were close.” Lindsey looked pointedly at the sisters. “We talked about all of this before.”

  “I know,” Angie said. “But things aren’t solid in our minds. We’ve talked to so many people. It gets confusing.”

  “How long have you worked here?” Jenna asked.

  Lindsey hesitated for a split second. “Seven years.”

  “Seven years since Mom died, but how many years did you work with our mother?” Jenna was trying to catch Lindsey in a lie.

  “I was hired about two months before the accident.”

  “Oh.” Jenna pretended she was mixed-up. “Didn’t you tell us you had worked with Mom for seven years?”

  “No, I didn’t. I’ve worked here at the hospital for a total of seven years.”

  “I see. I was under the impression that you and our mom knew each other longer than that.”

  “I need to get back to work.” Lindsey stood. “I really think you’re doing yourselves a disservice to be investigating your mother’s death. It just brings up bad memories and sad times. I think Elizabeth would want you to be busy with other things.”

  Angie and Jenna stood.

  “Thanks for your patience in talking with us.” Angie shook Lindsey’s hand.

  “We apologize for taking up your break time.” Jenna shook, too.

  When Lindsey had gone inside the hospital, Angie turned to her sister. “Is Lindsey a paranormal? I felt little jolts of electricity when I held her hand.”

  “I felt something similar. It could just be that she gets excited being asked about Mom because it makes her feel important.” Jenna looked to the side door of the hospital. “That would be weird if she was paranormal, wouldn’t it? It would be a strange coincidence.”

  The sisters started away down the sidewalk.

  “Are there more paranormals around than we think?” Angie asked.

  “I have no idea. I sensed something from Lindsey when I shook with her,” Jenna nodded. “I bet it was my intuition warning me she was a liar. She did a good job of catching herself when I asked about how long she’d known Mom.”

  “I saw something flit over her expression. I think she was about to tell us she’d known Mom for a long time, but she decided not to lie this time. She implied we were the ones who were wrong. We didn’t remember correctly. We were the ones who were mistaken. She claimed she never told us she knew Mom for seven years. Pretty smooth, isn’t she? She certainly did tell us she worked with Mom for seven years.”

  “We can’t trust her,” Jenna said.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone or I might start to think I was losing it.”

  “Well….” Angie kidded. “You do have a little baby, and you do still have brain fog from being pregnant and because you never sleep, and you’re busy with your jewelry designs, and you….”

  “Oh, stop.” Jenna chuckled. “I am not losing it … even though sometimes I feel like I am.”

  “Don’t worry. I feel exactly the same way.”

  Angie linked arms with her sister and they headed to the station to catch the next train home.

  21

  A few minutes before the train pulled up to the platform, Angie quickly turned to Jenna.

  “Would you mind taking a later train?”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “I have an idea.” Angie led her sister out of the station. “I want to go to the spot where Jim Appleton got killed. If I can stand on the corner where Mom’s accident happened and see a vision of what went on that day, I wonder if I can see what happened to Appleton on the night he got killed.”

  “That’s a great idea. A scary one, but a possibly helpful one.”

  When they reached the Boston Common, Angie used her phone to find a street map of the city while Jenna pulled up the news article about Appleton’s murder to find the correct spot on the tiny side road where it happened.

  “This way.” The sisters crossed over to the bottom of Beacon Hill and took several turns until they found the road … which was more like a back alley. “Here it is.”

  “From the description of where the crime took place, I’d say it was about halfway down the alley,” Jenna said.

  “Okay.” They stopped and stood next to the back of a brick building. “I’m going to close my eyes and try to see what went on here that night.”

  Angie shut her eyes and breathed slowly and deeply trying to bring herself into a calm and relaxed state. Shadows flickered in her vision, but didn’t stay long enough for her to grasp on to anything. A sensation of panic filled her chest for a few seconds and then it was gone. She kept trying to keep her mind free of thoughts so images could come to her, but after ten minutes nothing more surfaced.

  “It isn’t working.” Angie frowned in disappointment.

  Jenna stared at the alley, and was about to suggest they head back to the train station just as an idea popped up. “Wait a second. Our powers are supposed to be strengthening, even though neither of us is noticing much. What if we join forces?”

  Angie looked confused.

  “Let’s try it together. Let’s hold hands and each one of us will try and see what happened to Appleton. Maybe with both of us working together, a vision will come to us.”

  A smile spread over Angie’s face. “I love it. Let’s try.”

  The sisters faced one another, held hands, and closed their eyes. In thirty seconds, their breathing synced and they felt their muscles relax as a tranquil feeling flooded their bodies.

  A man hurried along a darkened street. His shoulders hunched. He almost broke into a jog. He turned down an alley, he heard footsteps behind him, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw someone pursuing him. The man bolted, but his pursuer made chase.

  A flash from something in the pursuer’s hand … and the man running away fell to the ground.

  The pursuer had wide shoulders and a thick neck. His hair was dark. He walked slowly towards the man who had fallen.

  The man on the ground was still and quiet.

  The pursuer looked down at him with contempt. “Stupid coward.”

  He lifted his gun and shot the man two more times, then he leaned down and pulled the dead man’s gun from his jacket. He stood straight, slipped both guns into his jacket pockets, and gave the fallen man another scornful look.

  Whe
n the killer glanced behind him for a second, his large nose and strong jawline were visible from the light hanging over a wooden door on the back of the building.

  He gave the man on the ground a half-hearted kick and strode out of the alley.

  Angie and Jenna startled at the same time. Their eyes flew open and they gasped for breath.

  “It worked. Joining our powers together worked.” Angie wheezed. “Did you see it?”

  Jenna nodded, her hand on her chest. “I saw.”

  “The man in the vision who shot Appleton … did you recognize him?” Angie asked.

  Jenna straightened. “It was the driver of the car who hit Mom.”

  “His hair was dark, not blond,” Angie noted. “He must have changed the color right after he ran his car into Mom.”

  “The man he shot was Jim Appleton.” Jenna sighed. “Why did he kill him? Because Appleton didn’t kill us after breaking into the house?”

  “It seems likely,” Angie said. “Unless this driver guy was punishing Appleton for breaking in. Maybe Appleton was supposed to lay low and not bother us. Maybe whoever orchestrated Mom’s accident thought we wouldn’t find out anything and would stop looking into her death.”

  “If they wanted us dead, they could kill us anywhere, at any time,” Jenna pointed out.

  “So maybe Appleton panicked and decided to take things into his own hands,” Angie guessed. “He followed me back to the house and later that night, he broke in intending to kill all of us.”

  “Whoever is involved with Mom’s murder must have thought Appleton was too much of a loose cannon and decided to get rid of him.”

  “What a mess,” Angie muttered. “Shall we head home?”

  Sitting on the train watching the trees and fields go by, Angie looked over at Jenna who was trying unsuccessfully to sleep.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Angie said.

  Jenna spoke without opening her eyes. “Can it wait so I can sleep?”

  “No.” Angie shifted in her seat. “I’ve been thinking about Kris Banes.”

  “Why?”

  “You know I felt something paranormal from her.”

  “Yes. And she told you she had skills.”

  “I felt it before she told me.” Angie glanced out the window. “Dorrie Appleton told us Jim worked for someone in Hamlet, a woman who lived in a big house right on the ocean, an important person in Hamlet.”

  “Yes.” Jenna’s eyes were still closed.

  “What if the person wasn’t Marjorie Falcon, Sue-Ellen’s neighbor? What if he worked for Sue-Ellen?”

  Jenna sat up and stared at her sister. “What are you getting at? Sue-Ellen planned the murder of Mom?”

  Angie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think of that possibility. Why would Sue-Ellen kill her? Mom was going to Hamlet to try to make Sue-Ellen better.”

  “Okay, so my first thought was wrong. Why are you bringing this up?”

  “Maybe Appleton worked for Sue-Ellen, maybe Marjorie, too. It doesn’t really matter who he worked for … he was in the town and someone could have contacted him to get involved with the plans to hurt Mom. Him working for particular people doesn’t mean any of those people are involved.”

  “Okay, right.”

  “But back to Kris,” Angie said. “She moved in with Sue-Ellen to care for her during her illness.”

  “And? You know I love talking to you, but I’d really like you to make your point so I can try to sleep before we get back to Sweet Cove.”

  Angie opened her mouth, and then closed it. Then said, “I’m not sure of my point. Kris and Sue-Ellen keep coming up in my mind. Snippets of conversation with Kris and with Magill keep floating around in my head. I don’t know what it means, but it’s trying to tell me something.”

  “Does anything about the conversations stand out? Are there links between what each woman said?” Jenna asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t push it. Things will get clearer.”

  Angie leaned back against the head rest. “I wish my brain could fit the pieces together faster.”

  “Give it time, sis.”

  “I think we need to go back to Revere,” Angie announced.

  Jenna turned to look at her sister. “Why? Dorrie is long gone by now.”

  Angie looked pensive. “There’s something there that we missed.”

  22

  It was late afternoon when the sisters left Sweet Cove for Revere, and when they arrived in the city, they walked along the sidewalk next to the beach and down to the neighborhood where Jim Appleton had an apartment. They’d learned from Detective Owen that Jim had lived alone on the second floor of the four-apartment building.

  The sisters stood outside under a big Maple tree in front of Jim’s former home.

  “I wonder if anyone’s at home.” Jenna shaded her eyes from the sun.

  “Let’s go find out.” Angie rang the bell for the first floor, left side apartment, but received no answer. She tried the other first floor apartment and then the second floor place that wasn’t Jim’s. No one was home.

  “Everyone’s probably at work,” Jenna said.

  Just then a blue truck pulled into the wide driveway and came to a stop. A tall man in his early forties got out and started walking to the front door when he spotted the young women standing there.

  “Afternoon.” The man was slim, about six feet tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing jeans and a work shirt and carried a lunchbox.

  “Hi.” Jenna spoke first. “We were wondering if you knew Jim Appleton.”

  The man nodded. “I knew him. He lived upstairs.”

  Jenna and Angie introduced themselves.

  “I’m Lenny Michaels.”

  “We heard about what happened to Mr. Appleton,” Angie explained.

  Lenny’s eyes looked wary. “Are you reporters?”

  “No, we aren’t. Our mother passed away several years ago. Jim Appleton was at the scene of her accident. It was a hit and run and it was never solved. We’re looking to talk to people who knew Jim.”

  “Jim died. What do you want to learn from people who knew him?”

  “We’re trying to find a link between Jim and the driver of the car,” Jenna said.

  “You think there’s some sort of link?” Lenny asked.

  “Some things we’ve learned make us think so.”

  “Well, I didn’t really know Jim. I didn’t like him.”

  “Why not?” Angie asked.

  “I try to steer clear of people who might be trouble.”

  “Was Jim trouble?”

  “He hung around with guys I didn’t much care for.” Lenny ran his hand over his dark hair. “They weren’t the kind of people I like.”

  “What sort do you mean?”

  “They were into drinking a lot, some drugs. Some of them had served time in jail. Jim got arrested a couple of times that I know about, breaking and entering. I know Jim and his pals stole stuff and sold it. I keep to myself. As long as they leave me alone, I keep my nose out of other people’s business.”

  “Did Jim have a girlfriend?” Angie asked.

  “Yeah. Her name’s Julie Hawthorne. She lives on the next street over.” Lenny told them what apartment house she lived in.

  “Can you tell us what she looks like?”

  “Thin, bleached blond, long hair, always seems to have a cigarette in her hand.”

  “Did Julie spend a lot of time with Jim?”

  “They seemed to. She was here most of the time. Like I said, I wasn’t friends with Jim, but I was friendly to him and Julie. We’d say a few things whenever we ran into each other.”

  “There isn’t anyone in Jim’s apartment, is there?”

  “It’s empty. The cops were here looking around inside for a couple of days. The landlord wants to repaint the place before he rents it again.”

  “Did you ever notice a tall man around Jim? He’s got a thick neck, dark, longer hair, broad shoulders, sort of a squ
are jaw,” Jenna described the driver of the car that had hit their mother.

  Lenny nodded. “I think you mean Pete. I don’t know his last name, but he fits the description.”

  “He came around to see Jim?” Angie questioned.

  “Pretty often. Pete isn’t friendly. He walks around like he’s got a chip on his shoulder. He gives you the idea you should stay away from him. I never talked to the guy. He seemed all business. Once in a while, I got a nod from him, that was it. We never spoke.”

  “Does Pete live around here?”

  “No idea. I didn’t care to know.”

  Walking to the next street over, Angie said, “So the driver’s name is Pete.”

  “I wish we knew his last name, but it’s more than we knew before we came here.”

  They knocked on Jim’s former girlfriend’s door, but no one came to open it.

  “She must be at work. Too bad. I bet Julie knows Pete’s last name,” Jenna said.

  “Want to take a walk over to Dorrie’s place? We could see if she came back. We can come by here before heading to Sweet Cove to see if Julie came home.”

  “Yeah, sure. From the look we saw on Dorrie’s face and how she was acting, I doubt she came back.”

  “Let’s go see. It’s something to do until we knock on Julie’s door later,” Angie said.

  Approaching Dorrie’s apartment house, the sisters couldn’t see the young woman’s car in the driveway, but they went up the stairs and rang the bell anyway, and weren’t surprised when there was no answer.

  “Dorrie moved away.” A man’s voice spoke from the driveway. In his early sixties, he was of average height, balding, and had a bit of a stomach. He wore a t-shirt and jeans.

  “We talked to Dorrie right before she left. We thought we’d check and see if she might have stopped back here for something,” Jenna said.

  “Do you know where she moved to?” Angie asked.

  “Nope. She wasn’t saying. I’m not sure she knew where she was headed. Just hit the road to see where the wind would take her.” The man smiled. “Sounds kind of good, doesn’t it?”

  Angie nodded. “It would be an adventure.”