Murder By Duplicity

by B. T. Lord

  Cora looked at the jar and smiled. To anyone else, it looked like a jar of homemade tea, complete with the red bow she’d tied around the neck of the jar. But red was her favorite color whenever she did spell work. It evoked strong, fiery emotions. It was the color of the earth energy. It was passion and anger and revenge, all rolled into one.

  Yes sirree. This was her best work yet.

  That pervert had looked through a glass slider for the last time.

  She cackled under her breath as she carefully put the jar into her bag and let herself out of her trailer.

  You messed with the wrong lady, buster. And now you’re going to pay the price.

  The Twin Ponds Gazette was located in a small building two blocks down from HQ. It was owned by Douglas MacMunn, who’d been running the paper for over twenty-five years. It was pretty much a one man production, with a girl who came in part-time to file and help out in any way he needed.

  Years before, he’d been a big fan of Cammie’s when she’d played right wing for the Night Hawks, featuring her prominently in many articles. He was an even bigger fan now that she was sheriff.

  The paper had been on the verge of closing when Eli Kelley’s murder help resurrect it. After apprehending the murderer, Cammie gave Mac an exclusive that led to an explosion in membership. Reporting on the recent murders made sure the Twin Ponds Gazette would be around for another twenty-five years.

  He owed her.

  She found him at his desk which overlooked Main Street. As usual, he was pounding away at his computer.

  “Hey Sheriff,” he said when she entered. “I hope you’re here to give me the low-down on those bones found in the forest.”

  “Actually, I’m here because I’m hoping you can help me in that case.”

  Mac’s eyes brightened and he swiveled away from the computer, grabbing a pen and opening up a steno pad. “What do you need?”

  “I need you to go back in your archives and find me everything you wrote on the mayoral election ten years ago between Bill Barnes and George Peabody.”

  “Bill and George?” he asked in a perplexed voice.

  “I’m sure that was a hot topic back then.”

  “One of the biggest.” He paused, then suddenly his jaw dropped. “Good God. Are you saying the skeleton belongs to George?”

  She pulled out the picture and placed it on the desk in front of him. He looked down at it and whistled. “So it is George.”

  “Margo just ID’ed him, as did Bill and his ex-office manager Evelyn Mason. I’m sure the town will know all about it within the hour, if they haven’t already. I’m hoping to get a bit of a head start by looking at what was going on back then, since, as you know, I wasn’t around.”

  “I’m pretty sure Maggie scanned all that stuff in. I finally got around to storing all the old stories, not only on disks, but on a server. I have a computer in the back room that you can use.”

  A few moments later, Cammie was seated in a windowless room, surrounded by old file cabinets and office supplies, staring at a computer screen, about to eagerly dive into the folders for 2006 and 2007.

  It was just past midnight when she finally turned the computer off. She was bleary eyed, her brain was mush and she was utterly exhausted. But what she’d read was an eye opener.

  The race was worse than she’d thought.

  She got up, stretched out the kinks in her back and neck before going out to the front office where she found Mac asleep at his desk. She gently shook him awake.

  “Wha--?” He asked groggily.

  “It’s time to go home. It’s after midnight.”

  “Did you find what you needed?”

  “I did. Thank you. And before you ask, I need to sit with it. But I promise you, once I figure everything out, you’ll be the first to know.”

  In her wearied state, she thought it best to take her time driving to Doc’s. Her reflexes were slow and she didn’t want to have to swerve to avoid hitting an animal crossing the road, especially at such a late hour.

  She put the radio on to a classical station to serve as background noise. Although she was physically tired, her mind was still whirling.

  The campaign had been a vicious one, with both men going for each other’s throat. Accusations had been flung back and forth in total disregard for the truth. She found Bill hadn’t been lying about the stories George had bandied about – about the mayor’s dishonesty and corruption. However, he’d neglected to tell her about the stories he’d flung at George – about him being a carpetbagger who only cared about stroking his own ego. Having lived in the town for only two years, he knew nothing about Twin Ponds and would only be detrimental to the welfare of the townspeople.

  There was one statement Bill made during the campaign that stuck in Cammie’s mind.

  Your mayor must be trustworthy. He must be above reproach. He must be someone you would trust with your own hard earned savings.

  He’d been deliberately vague, but knowing what she knew now, she realized Bill must have been alluding to George’s gambling addiction.

  That information could only have come from Margo. Which added to her suspicions that he and Margo were shacking up long before George ever left Twin Ponds.

  Was that the reason George left?

  Was that the reason he’d been killed?

  In the end Bill had won the bare knuckled fight of words. But only by a hair. If their last conversation was anything to go by, he still carried a great deal of resentment for all the things George accused him of.

  Couple that with his nervousness over the skeleton and upon finding out it was George, it made Cammie wonder if part of the nervousness was because he’d had something to do with his adversary’s death. Had the campaign caused Bill to kill George in a fit of rage? His reputation was everything to Bill. And George had done a wonderful job of trying to tear it down.

  And it certainly seemed that Margo had been right there in the middle, quietly helping her husband’s opponent. She was very open about the fact that, in her mind at least, the marriage was over. And she certainly didn’t seem upset when she recounted George’s announcement that he was leaving Twin Ponds. Nor had she ever applied for a divorce. Was that because she knew that instead of being in Bangor, he was rotting away in a four foot grave in the middle of the dense forest? Why divorce a man who was already dead?

  There was one last question that kept her company on the dark roads.

  Had George run for mayor in order to win his wife back? She seemed to be attracted to power. And nobody has more power in Clarke County than the mayor of Twin Ponds. When George lost, had that sealed his fate?

  By the time she pulled into Doc’s driveway, she still hadn’t come to any conclusions. But the investigation was still young. The answers were out there somewhere. And she meant to find them.

  As soon as she got a good night’s sleep.

  The next day when Cammie got into the office, she found an email from Colin that had the photo of the sledgehammer attached. The design on the handle was clearer now and it resembled an elaborate set of whorls and circles. Her father had dabbled in wood working and she’d never seen anything so fancy on a sledgehammer handle. Her first thought was that the sledgehammer had been custom made, which meant whoever commissioned it probably had money.

  It immediately brought Bill to mind.

  And Margo.

  Rather than jump to conclusions, she called Emmy into her office. “I’m going to forward this email to you. See if you can trace where this sledgehammer may have been made and, if possible, who it was made for.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.”

  She ran a copy of the photo on the printer and pinned it to the victim board.

  She spent the rest of the morning catching up on paperwork. When Jace called and invited her to have lunch with him at Zee’s, she jumped at the opportunity to get out of the office.

  She walked down the city block to Zee’s, and had just slid into the booth when Jace arrived. Aft
er giving her a quick kiss, he sat down opposite her.

  “Mark Nelsson just stopped by the garage. He’s having a small party this Saturday night and invited us.”

  “Great. He throws awesome parties.”

  Mark served as the town’s emergency pilot. Due to its remoteness, there were times he was needed to fly someone to the larger hospital located in Houlton, which was two hours away by car. He also served as a wilderness guide and tracker; his skills were responsible for saving many lost hikers and hunters over the years.

  “What’s the occasion?” she asked as they looked over the menu.

  Jace laughed. “Summer’s here and the time is right for dancing in the streets.”

  “Sounds like the perfect excuse to me.”

  “Excuse for what?” Zee asked as he came up to take their orders.

  “Mark Nelsson is having a party this Saturday.”

  “Just got the invite this morning. I can’t decide between making my moose mousse or my duck foie gras.”

  “That’s a toughie,” Cammie agreed. “They’re both outstanding.” After ordering their meals, she added, “Say Zee, did you go to that businessman’s meeting where Bill was giving a speech?”

  “Last time I looked, I was a businessman, so the answer is yes.”

  “Can you tell me what his speech was about?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You thinking of starting up your own business?”

  She grinned. “No. I’m perfectly content being sheriff.”

  “His speech was pretty much the same speech he always gives. How we need to look to the future and continue to help our town grow, etc., etc.”

  “In other words, allow him to build more hotels?”

  “Pretty much. However, he was a bit more adamant this time.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  Zee looked around at the three-quarters filled restaurant. “I see his point. Who doesn’t want more business coming their way? At the same time though, there’s something special about knowing everyone by their first name. I’d hate to lose that. By the way, he did mention the murder of George Peabody in an abstract way. He wanted to reassure us by saying you were close to having it solved.”

  “That’s what I love about Bill. No pressure.”

  Zee patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Currently, the odds are you getting this wrapped up by the end of August.”

  Cammie’s eyes widened in surprise. “People are betting on how long it’s going to take me to solve this?”

  “Uh huh. I’m down for the end of September, so don’t disappoint me. I’ve got a lot of money riding on this.”

  When he walked away, she shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “You’re a good investigator. Isn’t that why Doc calls you Sherlock?”

  “He calls me Sherlock because he likes being a pain in my ass.” She sighed. “Now, not only do I have Bill and most of the businesses breathing down my neck to allow construction to begin again, I now have to contend with people betting on when I’m going to solve this case. Never mind if I solve it.”

  “I know you, babe. You won’t rest until you figure out what happened to George Peabody.” He leaned forward in his seat and rested his chin on his palm. “As for Bill’s speech, I guess I’m torn. Every small town probably faces the same problem. When is it ever enough? I mean, sure, everyone would like extra money in their pocket. I could always use a raise. But at what cost? Like Zee said, it’s nice knowing everyone’s name. And those who are in need are always helped out by their neighbors. That’s what makes Twin Ponds unique. We really do care and assist each other. More business means more people, and more people means more anonymity. I’d hate to see this town become like so many other towns where you don’t even know your neighbors, and don’t want to know them.”

  Cammie got up, slid in next to Jace and gave him a deep kiss. “I love you,” she said before moving back to her side of the booth.

  “Jeez, if I knew that was going to be your reaction, I’d make speeches more often.” He paused. “You know how much you’ve been talking about wanting to take a few days of R&R in Bar Harbor?” She nodded. “Well, we can do that if you solve this case by the beginning of September.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Oh no! Et tu Brute?”

  He offered her a sheepish look. “Well…”

  When Cammie arrived back at her office, she found Rick and Emmy waiting for her. “I called every accounting firm in Bangor, and no one has heard of George Peabody. I even expanded the search to towns around Bangor and still nothing,” Rick said when they were all seated in her office. “The phone records for the Peabody’s landline don’t show any calls to Bangor, or to any town outside of Clarke County for the period in question. However, they did do online banking. Emmy was able to find bills paid to one of the cell phone companies. I’ve requested those records. They should be here in a few days.”

  “Well, if George owned a cell phone, and in 2007 who didn’t own a cell, it’s completely vanished,” Cammie replied thoughtfully.

  “There’s always the possibility that George lied to Margo about going to Bangor,” Rick suggested. “I mean, he’d just lost an election to the man who was boinking his wife. I’m sure the last person he ever wanted to talk to or see again was Margo, so he made up a story that he was moving to Bangor when, in reality, he set up a new life somewhere else so he’d be sure she’d never track him down.”

  “True,” Cammie murmured. “Or perhaps George never left Twin Ponds at all.”

  “Are you thinking Margo and Barnes killed George?” She shrugged. “Come on! Could you honestly see Bill offing George and actually digging a grave out in the middle of the woods? He’d have a friggin’ heart attack after just two passes with a shovel,” Rick scoffed.

  Cammie met Rick’s eye. “Don’t forget, Rick. Bill wasn’t always 300 pounds.” She looked down at the stack of paper in front of her. “These are the bank records?” she asked.

  Emmy nodded. “They came in this morning. If you look at them, you’ll see they didn’t have a lot of money.”

  Cammie sorted through them. When she was done, she frowned. “This makes no sense. Your aunt told me Margo paid for everything, from George’s office to the expensive suits he liked to wear. She also told me Margo came from money. And they owned that big Victorian over on Sunset Avenue that she’s still living in. According to this though, there’s barely enough in the account to buy chewing gum.”

  “Exactly,” Emmy responded. “I got suspicious too. So I did a bit of digging. Turns out Margo has her own bank account. It’s in her maiden name.”

  “Really?” Cammie asked.

  “Yep.” She rifled through the pile and pulled out a group of papers that were paper clipped together. “Look at these,” she said as she flipped through each page. “They go back a year before Mr. Peabody decided to run for mayor. You’ll notice that on the 25th of every month, there’s a deposit between five to ten thousand dollars.”

  Cammie went through the papers and saw that Emmy was right. “Were her parents still paying her some kind of allowance? Maybe it was proceeds from a trust fund.”

  “Wrong on both counts.”

  She looked up and saw the look of excitement on both Emmy and Rick’s faces. “Well, are you going to tell me, or do I have to fire both of you?”

  “Get ready, boss, cos this is going to blow your socks off.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Rick. “The last time you told me that, Eli Kelley walked back into my life and almost torpedoed me.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I take that back. But get ready anyway. Go on, Em. Tell her.”

  Proud of her investigative work, Emmy puffed herself up and announced, “They’re all from Mayor Barnes’ account.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Are you kidding me?” Cammie asked, incredulously.

  “I went over it several times to make sure.”

  “Why in heaven’s name would Bill be subsidizing Margo’s incom
e? And why did she open up an account in her maiden name?” She flipped through the pages. “When did the payments stop?”

  “They haven’t.”

  “What?”

  Emmy nodded. “He’s still depositing money into her account. When I added it all up, it comes to almost $1.2 million.”

  “She must be OTTIB,” Rick replied.

  “What the heck is OTTIB?” Cammie asked, despite herself.

  “Over the top in bed.”

  “For that amount of money, she must be over, under and all around.” Cammie sat back. “Well, this goes towards confirming my suspicions that they were sleeping together way before Bill admitted they were.” She absently tapped her chin with her finger. “Rick, did you find out anything on George’s gambling addition?”

  “I did. He was losing it as quickly as he made it.”

  “I decided to check to see if Mr. Peabody had any other bank accounts, but I came up empty,” Emmy added.

  “His behavior certainly explains why Margo set up a separate bank account. If George was running through their money, she needed to do this to protect their assets.”

  “And Barnes being head over heels about her would think nothing of helping her out,” Rick added. “Especially since he’s worth a gazillion himself.”

  Cammie stood up and crossed over to the victim board. Next to the picture of the skeleton, she’d hung up the facial reconstruction photo. She’d also pinned pictures of Margo and Bill. Underneath, she’d written down the connections and hypothesis. To this, she now added the information regarding the bank accounts. She paused for a moment, then added in black magic marker under Margo’s picture, ‘George’s gambling addiction motive for murder?’ Under Bill’s picture, she wrote, ‘Affair with Margo and George’s gambling motive for murder’?

  “This is when it really starts getting interesting, isn’t it?” Rick asked. “Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you have this solved by mid-August.” Cammie turned around and stared at him. Unable to resist the intensity of her gaze, he threw up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’ve been looking at this boat Wally Lyons has for sale. It’s a beauty. I just need a couple thousand dollars to clinch the deal. Since you’re such an awesome investigator, I figured that was easy money. So don’t let me down, eh Cam?”