“Get the team together,” he instructed whoever answered his call. He gave the person on the other end Fiona’s address and hung up.
“My forensics team is on its way. Looks like you may not be going to jail tonight after all.”
**
Chas had slipped into bed well into the wee hours of the morning, and was up early after a call from ForenLabs, letting him know that his samples had been tested and the results had been emailed. He stopped by Cupcakes in Paradise briefly to kiss his wife goodbye and snag a couple of warm, unfrosted cupcakes to munch on in the car.
The lab results confirmed his extremely unpleasant hunch, and for further proof, he need only to stop by the evidence room at the station. Once that was done, he enlisted the assistance of two uniformed officers, who accompanied him to the Calgon Medical Examiner’s office.
Stanley Nichimura was going over a stack of reports when Chas and the two cops came in. He looked surprised to see the detective and set the papers down.
“Detective Beckett, what can I do for you?” he asked pleasantly.
“Read him his rights,” Chas told one of the officers. Nichimura’s face drained of color.
“What? Why?” he sputtered, rising from his chair.
While one officer cuffed the M. E. and explained the charges against him, Chas and the other officer secured his office and lab, sending lab techs to another room to await questioning. The detective texted Spencer and let him know that he could stop babysitting Timothy Eckels, and looked forward to the conversation that he’d have later with the mortician.
**
Spencer Bengal rose from the club chair in Tim’s office that he’d occupied for most of the day.
“Looks like you got lucky this time,” he drawled, heading for the door.
Fiona was just coming back from her lunch break and heard the remark as he passed her in the hallway.
“What are you talking about? Why were you here all day, anyway?” she asked the Marine, eyes narrowed.
“Ask him. You two seem to be…close,” he replied casually.
“What?” she seemed shocked. “You think that Timmy and I…eww…” she exclaimed. “It’s not like that. I just find him oddly fascinating and he’s fun to hang out with. He’s such a sweet little morbid psycho. I love that he’s just himself and doesn’t even pretend that he wants to fit in,” she chuckled.
“Really?” Spencer raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Yeah, really,” she shot back, hands on hips.
“Then prove it, go out with me tomorrow night,” the Marine challenged mildly.
“Fine, I will,” Fiona replied without hesitation.
“Fine,” he nodded and headed for the door, keeping his smile in check until he reached the car.
Chapter 16
Nichimura cracked like a chickadee shell under the mildest of interrogations. Chas sat across the table from his former colleague, watching with regret as the Medical Examiner fell to pieces in front of him. Stanley’s hands and voice shook, and he swallowed repeatedly in what looked like an attempt to keep either tears or nausea at bay.
“I wasn’t trying to do anything but catch a little credit for discovering a murder before that stupid mortician did,” he muttered, hands clasped, rocking slightly back and forth.
“So you made it look like someone had murdered Marco Lansing, when in reality, he’d simply died from a heart attack?”
Nichimura nodded miserably.
“How did you do that? How was it that the tissue sample taken from the body contained no trace of cyanide and didn’t smell at all like almonds, yet the blood sample showed a more than lethal dose?” the detective probed.
“I injected the sample that I took at the scene with a drop of the cyanide. There was never any ingestion of it by the victim. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I just wanted to look…competent again,” the M. E. shook his head.
“And you thought fabricating evidence of a homicide was the way to go?” Chas raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t really think it through, I just saw an opportunity and I took it,” Nichimura’s eyes grew moist.
“I found a container of pesticide in the guard shack at the marina, is that where you got the cyanide?”
“Unfortunately, no. I found it in the evidence room. It was stored as part of a cold case from seventeen years ago.”
“So we can add theft of evidence and impeding an ongoing investigation to your case,” the detective sighed. “What about the ashes? How did you get them, when did you plant them, and why?”
“I sat and watched the strange sister’s apartment until I saw her leave, then I slipped the lock and looked for the urn. It was easy enough to find, so I just scooped some of the ashes out, making sure that I had at least a few bone fragments that were large enough to contain trace amounts of DNA,” the M. E. began.
Chas interrupted. “Wait…you wanted us to figure out whose ashes were on the boat? Why?”
“Because I was getting nervous that somehow, someone might find out that not everything was as it seemed, and if that happened, I wanted you to be looking at the mortician or the sister, as suspects, rather than me. I realized that what I had done was potentially really dangerous for my career, so I was trying to cover my tracks,” Nichimura mumbled, staring at the fake woodgrain tabletop.
“You can say that again,” the detective sighed. “Continue.”
“I got out of there as quickly as I could, and waited until after dark to put the ashes on the deck of the boat.”
“Did you realize that you left a nitrile glove behind?” Chas asked.
“I thought that I might have, but I didn’t want to push my luck by going back, so I just hoped for the best.”
“You hoped for the best,” he repeated, shaking his head. “While you missed some key clues on a few homicides, I’m thinking that you were a much better Medical Examiner than you are a criminal,” the detective stared at Nichimura regretfully.
“Does that mean you’re going to let me go?” a spark of hope glimmered in his pouchy eyes.
“You’ve been doing this for a long time, Stan, you know it doesn’t happen like that. These are serious offenses that you’ve committed. You’re not just going to lose your job, you’re going to do some serious time.”
“I should’ve cremated the body,” the defeated man muttered.
“No, you should have reported a massive heart attack, not a fabricated homicide.”
Stanley Nichimura lowered his head into his hands and quietly wept.
Chapter 17
Sarah and Grayson sat across from Missy and Echo at their favorite table in Cupcakes in Paradise, drinking coffee, munching on cupcakes, and making plans. The young couple was just glowing with happiness, as was newly-engaged Echo.
“What an exciting time,” Missy exclaimed with a warm smile. “I’m so happy for y’all.”
“We’re excited too,” Sarah blushed and gazed at her husband-to-be. “In fact, one of the reasons that we came up here to see you, is that we wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Oh, of course, sweetheart, anything,” Missy reached for her hand.
“We’d like you to help us plan our wedding… it’s going to be in LaChance,” Grayson said shyly.
“Well, count me in,” she replied with excitement. Missy hadn’t been back to her hometown of LaChance, Louisiana since she and Chas had purchased the Inn and moved to Florida.
“Me too,” Echo piped up, glad to see Grayson so happy.
The four of them chattered non-stop about cakes, decorations, venues, dresses and menus until the bells over the door jangled. They all stopped and looked up when Fiona McCamish came in, dressed quite normally in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, carrying a fast-food bag and a thermos.
“Can I help you?” Missy asked, dying of curiosity.
“Is Spencer here?” she asked, glancing around the shop.
“No, but I think he’s over at the tool shed behind the Inn. I ca
n walk you over if you’d like,” she offered.
“Nah, thanks anyway, I’ll find him,” the young woman replied, heading for the door.
“Well, it’s about time,” Echo chuckled, after Fiona left.
“This is going to be interesting,” Missy mused.
**
“Hey big guy,” Fiona grinned and held up the sack of food and thermos. Spencer had been re-glazing some French window panes, and looked up from his work, surprised.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked, putting the cap back on the glazing compound and wiping his hands on a work towel.
“Thought you might be hungry,” she shrugged, nonchalant.
“Well, that’s always a good possibility,” the Marine replied, leaning back against the workbench. In reality, he’d had huge helpings of Maggie’s biscuits and gravy already this morning, but if eating again meant that Fiona would hang out and keep him company, he’d be more than willing to force down some of whatever was making grease stains on that bag.
“Whatcha got?”
“Breakfast and coffee, duh,” she teased, in a better mood than he’d ever seen her. “Where can we go?”
“Oh, uh, let’s go sit at a table by the pool since it’s still nice and cool this morning.” He led her out of the shed and she trailed behind him, sitting in a chair that faced the pool.
“Nice place you got here,” she commented, as she took in the pool, hot tub, cabana and lovely landscaping that surrounded the Inn.
“Better digs than I’ve had my whole adult life,” Spencer agreed, enjoying looking at her while she focused on the Inn.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked in her unabashedly forthright way, taking breakfast sandwiches out of the bag.
If she was going to be bold, so was he.
“Because I enjoy it,” he raised an eyebrow in mild challenge.
“Why?” she persisted, clearly enjoying the honesty game. She took a bite of her sandwich and looked at him expectantly.
He slowly unwrapped his breakfast, then looked her right in the eyes. “Because you’re beautiful,”
“Oh, puhleeze,” she rolled her eyes, taking another bite.
“It’s true,” Spencer shrugged and poured some coffee from the thermos into a paper cup that had been in the food bag.
“That’s so cliché though. There’s nothing special about my looks.”
“Well, I’m going to have to disagree with you there, but I wasn’t talking about your looks anyhow.”
“Oh, right, of course, you see my inner beauty shining like a beacon of hope in a dark and desperate world, right?” she teased.
“Poetic expression, but not what I meant,” he chuckled.
“Then what?” she put her sandwich down and leaned her chin in her palm, sipping her coffee.
“It’s hard to explain, but…I’ve done a lot of living, even though I’m not very old. I’ve seen good things that make me smile, horrific things that give me nightmares, and I’m pretty good at seeing through the hard candy shell that people put on. You seem like you’ve lived a lot too…and turned out okay in spite of it,” he held her gaze.
Fiona put down her cup and looked at the handsome and capable man who had just given her perhaps the only genuine compliment she’d ever had. Her large hazel eyes were soft as she measured the sincerity in his gaze.
“Thank you,” she whispered finally.
“You’re welcome,” his dimples were dazzling.
The two survivors stared at each other without speaking for a long and completely comfortable time.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“I have no idea,” Spencer shrugged, the spell broken for the moment. “I’m certainly open to the possibility, but I just haven’t met the right person yet, I suppose.”
“Seriously, like, what kind of tragic flaw are you hiding?” she persisted.
“Huh?” he looked at her, confused, and took another bite of his sandwich, looking around for a napkin. She reached into the bag and handed him one.
“You’re this totally hot guy, who knows how to say all the right things to make a girl melt, you have a good job, you’re not crazy as far as I can tell, and you’re ridiculously easy to talk to…there’s gotta be a catch somewhere. No one is that amazing,” she looked at him skeptically.
Spencer blushed and laughed out loud.
“And you blush! How much temptation is one girl supposed to withstand?” Fiona shook her head.
“Well, thank you, but I really don’t see myself as a “hot guy.” I just am who I am, and was raised to have manners and care about people. There’s really not much mystery to it. And did you imply that you were melting, by the way?” he teased.
“Oh, I didn’t mean me,” she amended hastily. “I just meant, you know, probably, like, in general, women react to you that way,” she lied, her cheeks reddening more deeply than his had.
“I see some cracks in that hard candy shell,” Spencer said softly, reaching across the table to touch Fiona’s warm cheek.
“No one else ever has,” she admitted, lifting her gaze to meet his.
Chapter 18
Timothy Eckels was absorbed in an article on new materials being used to manufacture the eye caps that were used to prevent the eyes of a corpse from sinking down so far that it was visible behind their eyelids. He looked up when he heard footsteps in the hallway of the mortuary, and saw Detective Chas Beckett appear in his doorway.
“May I come in?” the detective asked.
“No handcuffs this time?” Tim said flatly.
Chas chuckled. “Yeah, sorry about that, but we couldn’t take any chances when the evidence looked like you might be involved. It all worked out in the end.”
“Did it?”
“Yes, it did. It turned out that the Medical Examiner, Stanley Nichimura had fabricated and planted false evidence to make Marco Lansing’s heart attack look like a murder.”
“But…why?” Tim cocked his head to the side.
“Because he was…intimidated.”
“By what?”
“By you, that’s why I’m here, actually,” the detective replied.
“Me? But I didn’t threaten…” the mortician began to protest, but Chas cut him off.
“I know you didn’t threaten Nichimura, but you posed a threat to him because it appears that you were better at doing his job than he was.”
Tim blinked.
“So, I’d like you to think about something,” Chas continued. “Calgon County is going to need a new Medical Examiner, and I’d like to see you in that position.”
“But…I have a business…”
“I understand. I’m just hoping that we can work out some kind of on-call arrangement, at least in the short term, so that we won’t be missing an M. E. while we try to find someone to do the job. You’ll get to test it out – see if you’d be comfortable doing consulting for us, while Miss McCamish babysits the mortuary in your absence. I’ve watched you when we’ve had a body to analyze. You know what you’re doing, you’re thorough, and you seem to derive a particular satisfaction from figuring out all of the minute details involved in a death. That’s a rare and valuable set of skills. You could take the M. E. certification online, and take over the position as soon as you’re ready if you decide that you want to. If not, I’d certainly appreciate it if you’d function as the interim M. E. You don’t have to answer me now, chew on it for a couple of days and let me know, okay?” Chas asked a quietly stunned Tim.
“Okay,” he nodded slowly.
“If you have any questions, just give me a call,” the detective said, handing the mortician a card.
“Is there a background check?” Tim asked, his eyes on Chas’s.
“That’s part of the hiring process, yes, but there will be an opportunity to address anything that might…come up,” Chas said carefully. “Mr. Eckels, I don’t make a move without doing my homework. I think I know what you’re referring to, and I don’t think there�
�s anything to worry about,” he reassured the pallid man.
Tim’s eyes brightened as though a tremendous weight had just been lifted from his soul. His past had haunted him for quite some time, but it looked like he might have finally stumbled into someone who could understand and allow him to move on. He stood and shook the detective’s hand, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a slight smile, for the first time in a very long time.
“I’ll give it some thought,” he promised, his heart beating rapidly. He’d been a respected and responsible citizen once – perhaps now, he could become one again.
Chas left and the mortician sat at his desk thinking of his future and of the possibilities that had just been dropped in his lap. He’d have to make a Key Lime pie tonight to celebrate.
“You look like the cat who just ate the canary,” Fiona observed dryly from the doorway, startling him out of his reverie.
“Indeed,” Tim nodded, gazing at her thoughtfully. “How would you feel about a promotion?”
Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved.
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
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Stay Curious,
Summer Prescott
Red Hot Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 32 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 6
