“This morning, a few hours ago.”
“That’s interesting,” Mercedes said. After he left, mother and daughter stepped inside the apartment building. “I gotta tell you something. I’ll wait until we’re home.”
Mother and daughter tromped up the stairs and into their apartment.
Mercedes closed the door behind them. “No one in the author group knew I was back except Cricket. The others thought I was still in New York. Ma, I told Cricket everything. I was sure she wasn’t Jon Luis’ killer. Now I’m beginnin’ to think I was wrong.”
“You’re sure?” Carlita asked. “A hundred percent sure she’s the only one who knew you were still here in Savannah?”
“I can’t be certain, but I think so. That’s why I asked Detective Wilson when he received the anonymous tip. It was right around the time I stopped by The Book Nook and left a message for Cricket, asking her to call me. The store worker saw me. He wrote my name on a Post-it note and told me he would let her know as soon as he saw her. She called me not long after I left the bookstore.”
“You’re thinkin’ she somehow found out you were here, brought the murder weapon by, tossed it in the dumpster and then called the cops?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. She said she was out running some errands. Cricket knew all about George Delmario, knew all about the Madison Square / Herbert Honeycutt death.”
Mercedes tapped her foot on the floor. “I’m still not sure about the Russian connection.”
“Maybe it was the Russians,” Carlita said. “They got nervous cuz they heard Warren Paulson was going to start pointing fingers, so they took him out. Now, years later, they’re probably still workin’ the area, heard Jon Luis was investigating the case and did him in.”
“It could be. Some of the puzzle pieces are still missing. I’m putting Cricket at the top of the list of suspects, along with Stephanie, the romance writer, and Tom Muldoon. I don’t think it was Austin. He’s too young.”
“Unless he’s got a Russian connection.”
“I doubt it,” Mercedes said.
“Always suspect the least suspect,” Carlita said. “What do they always talk about on those detective shows? Motive and opportunity.”
“Yeah,” Mercedes nodded. “Motive would be to silence Jon Luis and opportunity would be me. To set me up, someone Luis was already investigating…with mafia ties no less. I’m gonna read Jon Luis’ draft again. Now that I have more of the background, I might be able to glean a few more clues. Plus, I’m gonna have to keep a close eye on the draft. I told Cricket I had it.”
Carlita glanced at her watch. “I’m gonna run downstairs and check on Paulie, Gina and the kids.” She opened the front door and stepped into the hall. “We better be on our guard and make sure we keep the doors locked. It’s creepy knowin’ this Luis’ killer was in our alley, throwing a murder weapon in our dumpster.”
“If it wasn’t so horrifying, I think it would make a great story for one of my books,” Mercedes said.
After her mother left, Mercedes began re-reading Luis’ draft. Luis outlined his research in detail. She started with George Delmario’s death. Mercedes had heard bits and pieces of the tale, mainly how Delmario had gone into the alley after closing his store, to take out the trash and he was gunned down in a drive-by shooting. “Sounds like a hit to me,” Mercedes muttered.
Delmario died of multiple gunshot wounds. The murder weapon was never found, nor was anyone ever named as a suspect in the case. Delmario’s wife, Louise, was questioned extensively, but she claimed she never heard anything, had fallen asleep waiting for her husband and didn’t discover his body until the next morning.
Mercedes always suspected Delmario’s wife had been warned to keep quiet or face the same fate. Instead, she quickly packed up her belongings, closed the business and headed back to New York.
Jon Luis briefly mentioned the property changed hands and was now owned by Carlita Garlucci and her family. He’d even jotted several notes about his plan to question the family to find out how they’d come to own the property since there was no trail of a traditional property sale.
Mercedes suspected that’s where she came in. Jon Luis dangled the carrot, telling her he had info on the Herbert Honeycutt case when, in fact, he planned to meet her to pump her for information.
She finished reading the Delmario information and started reading his research into the Madison Square / Honeycutt murder. His theory was Teresa Honeycutt hired someone to murder her husband, intent on collecting a large insurance policy. He even alluded to the fact Honeycutt believed his wife had faked a fall, she wasn’t wheelchair bound and even interviewed several close family friends.
Luis jotted notes of his planned meeting with Tierney Grant, how he knew the young woman had inherited the Honeycutt home and he hoped he would be able to search the property. Luis also suspected Tierney Grant and Teresa Honeycutt were somehow related.
What if Tierney was Jon Luis’ killer? She knew he was investigating the Honeycutt case. That wouldn’t be reason enough to kill the man, unless she was desperate to stop him.
Mercedes finished reading the part about Warren Paulson’s Russian connection, his boating incident and how his body was never recovered.
“Was Warren Paulson murdered?” Mercedes whispered. She slid her chair back and wandered over to the window, staring out into the courtyard. At first, she thought maybe the killer knew about the book draft from Luis’ publisher, but maybe not.
Luis hid the book draft in his storage unit for a reason. He had the storage unit key with him at the time of his death. What if Jon Luis had lined up two meetings the night of his death…the first one with his killer, and a second with Mercedes?
Mercedes needed to set a trap…but how? Was Cricket a killer? She seemed like such a sweet lady. Maybe she got scared when Luis started snooping around.
Knock. Knock. Mercedes hurried to the front door and peeked through the hole, certain her mother had forgotten her house keys. It was Cool Bones.
She opened the door. “Hi Cool Bones. Ma isn’t here. She’s downstairs.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to stop by on my way to practice. She slipped a note under my door, inviting me to an Italian feast here in the hall tomorrow night so I could meet Paulie’s wife, Gina. She also said something about a going-away party for Elvira.”
“I forgot all about it. Yeah. Ma mentioned it.”
“Where is Elvira going?” Cool Bones asked.
Mercedes glanced over his shoulder at Elvira’s front door. “Ma evicted her.”
“And she’s throwing her a going-away party?” Cool Bones chuckled.
“There’s more to the story. Elvira’s lease was almost up. She was moving anyway, but when the woman set her apartment on fire, it was the last straw.”
“I thought I smelled smoke the other day.” Cool Bones shook his head. “That woman. Once she gets a bee in her bonnet, you never know what she’s gonna do. I wonder where she’s moving to.”
“Across the alley.” Mercedes motioned to the back of the building.
“Our alley?”
“Yep. If you look out your living room window, you’ll be able to see her new place.”
Cool Bones let out a low whistle. “You don’t say. Well, I’ll be here for the dinner.” He patted his stomach. “Your mother makes some mean Italian.”
“Ma is a great cook,” Mercedes said. “I’ll be sure to let her know.”
Cool Bones turned to go and then he stopped. “Oh. I almost forgot to tell you. After wrapping up my gig down at the Thirsty Crow this morning, I was walking home and I noticed someone up ahead of me, so I kinda hung back. You never know what kinda characters are lurking around at three in the morning. I followed the person all the way here and watched as they turned down our alley and walked to the other end. They were doing something over by the dumpster. I thought maybe it was a homeless person, but they didn’t start digging around in the trash. It looked like they droppe
d something inside and then they took off.”
Chapter 20
“The person was on foot?” Mercedes asked.
“Yes ma’am. At least as far as I could see. Course, they coulda parked somewhere and walked.”
“Someone called in an anonymous tip to the police this morning, saying that a gun used in a shooting down by the river was in our dumpster.”
“I heard something about a man’s body being found down by the river on the news the other day,” Cool Bones said. “Why would the gun be in our dumpster?”
“Because I was the one who found his body,” Mercedes said. She didn’t go into detail and Cool Bones didn’t ask. “What time did you say this happened? Were you able to tell if the person was a man or a woman?”
“It was around 3:00, maybe closer to 3:15 this morning, right after the bar closed. It was too dark to see anything. I’m sorry Mercedes. I wish I could help. I best be goin’ on to my practice. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.” Cool Bones tipped his hat, trekked down the steps and out the door.
Mercedes watched him leave. What if the killer grew suspicious when Mercedes suddenly left town and Autumn joined the group?
What if Jon Luis hadn’t connected the dots? What if he told his publisher what he was working on? Still, Luis had a reason for hiding the draft in his storage unit, more than likely because his apartment had been ransacked.
Mercedes wandered into her bedroom and plopped down in the chair. She slid the manuscript out of the plastic bag and spotted a small oblong object she hadn’t noticed before.
“What is this?” She tipped the bag upside down and the small object fell into her hand. It was a USB flash drive. Mercedes’ fingers trembled as she wiggled the device into the USB port on the side of her laptop and clicked to open the drive. Her eyes scanned the list and she found a folder named MIS Manuscript.
Mercedes double-clicked on the heading and Jon Luis’ manuscript popped up on the screen. She studied the online manuscript. It was identical to the hard copy she’d been reading, except for the cover page. It listed the publisher as Live Oak Publishing.
She grabbed her phone, tapped the camera icon and scrolled through the pictures she’d taken of the books by JL Cordele they’d found in Jon Luis’ storage unit. The publisher listed on those was The Batton Group.
“Why didn’t I think of this before? Jon Luis began writing under another name and at the same time, switched publishers.” Mercedes set the phone on the desk and typed Austin Crawford, author.
The majority of Austin’s books were published under Crawford Publishing Company, except for a non-fiction book, featuring tips on how to research local history. It was published under Garnett Publishing and Mercedes vaguely recognized the name.
Carlita popped her head inside Mercedes’ bedroom door. “I’m back.”
“Great,” Mercedes said. “I’m just doin’ some more research.” She began researching Cricket’s books, all published under Learner Crafts Publishing and another publisher Mercedes didn’t recognize.
She moved on to Tom Muldoon. There were several pages of thriller/suspense books written under his name and most were with a major publisher, Barnette Book Group. Tom’s newest book, The Last to Fall, was ranking well and published under the name Tom Muldoon with no publishing credits. She clicked on another of his books, Fight the Calm, and almost hit the floor when she spotted Live Oak Publishing on the second page.
“It’s Tom,” Mercedes leaned back in her chair as she stared at the words. Tom and Jon Luis had used the same publishing company. Had Tom murdered Jon Luis and set Mercedes up? If so, why?
Mercedes opened a second browser and typed in Warren Paulson, Savannah, Georgia. Several old news articles popped up about Paulson’s case. One article reported he’d gone missing and was presumed to have died in a boating mishap.
“I’m missing something,” Mercedes groaned. She began to study the online manuscript, all of which was identical to the handwritten one, minus the notes Jon Luis had jotted on the side. At the very bottom was a single, additional paragraph that she missed on her first scan of Jon Luis’ draft book.
Warren Paulson wasn’t murdered and he didn’t die in a boating accident. Follow the money.
“Follow the money,” Mercedes said. “The money that Warren Paulson was paid for selling satellite information to the Russians. What happened to it?” She slid out of the chair and wandered over to the window, staring out into the courtyard. “If I had a bunch of money, I might invest it, stick it in an overseas bank account or…buy property.”
She darted back to her chair. Mercedes’ fingers flew over the keyboard as she searched the Board of Assessor’s website for property owned by Warren Paulson. The site listed a property with several acres and a single family home, purchased by Warren Paulson several years ago.
At the bottom of the sheet was an additional link and Mercedes clicked on it. It was a quitclaim deed. The property that Warren Paulson purchased changed hands and was now owned by Tom Muldoon!
Mercedes’ mind whirled. Why would Warren Paulson deed his property to Tom Muldoon unless… “Oh my gosh!”
“Ma!”
Carlita ran into the room. “What?”
“I think Tom Muldoon knew someone who worked at Live Oak Publishing. That person mentioned Luis’ new book to Muldoon and the cases he was investigating. Muldoon tracked down Jon Luis and discovered he was researching not only George Delmario’s death but also the deaths of Herbert Honeycutt and Warren Paulson.”
“Yeah? How do they link to Tom Muldoon?” Carlita asked.
“Warren Paulson was a Russian informant. Rumors began to circulate. He was getting pressure from the feds and threats from the Russians, so he staged his disappearance in a boating mishap.” Mercedes said. “But he didn’t die. He went into hiding and, at some point in time, he changed his identity. Warren Paulson, Russian informant, became Tom Muldoon, mystery and thriller writer.”
Mercedes would bet money Muldoon was the one who mentioned Jon Luis to the author group. Perhaps he was even the one who told Jon Luis about Mercedes, how she lived in the infamous George Delmario / mafia house and put the bug in Mercedes’ ear to contact Jon Luis.
He orchestrated their meeting, without either of them knowing it. Muldoon lured Jon Luis to the riverfront, maybe even confronted him about the book research and then murdered him, knowing Mercedes was on her way to meet with Jon Luis.
How could she prove it? Unless…she turned the tables and lured Tom Muldoon into a trap. Mercedes grabbed her phone and dialed Detective Wilson’s number.
“Hello Ms. Garlucci. We don’t have the results back on the gun yet.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. One of our tenants stopped by earlier to tell me he watched someone drop something into our dumpster around 3:15 this morning and I think I know who not only planted the gun, but also who murdered Jon Luis and set me up.”
“You’ve been busy,” Wilson said. “I hope you’re not breaking the law.”
“No, at least not yet. I’m working on setting a trap and I need your help.” She laid out her theory to Wilson in detail, telling him she planned to use the rough draft of the book as bait and was certain that Tom Muldoon, aka Warren Paulson, would fall for it. “I did obtain the book draft under questionable circumstances that I’d rather not discuss.”
She explained how she linked Muldoon and Jon Luis’ books to the same publisher and that Warren Paulson’s property was quitclaimed to Tom Muldoon.
“Jon Luis was hot on Muldoon’s trail. I think Muldoon somehow found out about Jon Luis’ research, which included George Delmario, the previous owner of our property. Muldoon brought up Jon Luis during one of our author meetings and covertly worked behind the scenes to tell Jon Luis about me and vice versa. It was the perfect setup; get rid of Jon Luis and I would take the fall.”
“What is your plan?” the detective asked.
“I’m gonna tell the author group I think there’s a R
ussian connection, maybe someone with connections to Warren Paulson’s case. If my plan works, Luis’ killer will hear I have Luis’ manuscript that I’m onto something and come after it.”
“You want to lure a potential killer to your property?” Detective Wilson asked.
“The killer is already lurking around,” Mercedes said, “although it wouldn’t hurt if you could send a few extra patrol cars around here tonight.”
The detective sighed heavily. “I think it’s a mistake, but I can’t stop you. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I think I do. Now all I have to do is convince my brothers to help me out.”
***
“Hi Cricket. Yeah, it’s me, Mercedes. I think I hit the jackpot.”
“No. I’m not holding a winning lottery ticket. It’s something better.” Mercedes pressed the speaker button so her family could hear. “I finished reading Luis’ manuscript again, the one he was working on when he was murdered. Believe it or not, I think I figured out who killed him.”
“Seriously?” Cricket asked. “Who is it?”
“I can’t say yet, other than there’s a Russian connection. I have a little more digging around to do tonight and then I plan to take the manuscript to the police first thing in the morning. The manuscript links to a property deal that links the killer to Luis. In the meantime, I’m locking it up downstairs in the pawnshop for safekeeping.”
“Unbelievable,” Cricket said. “Wait until the others in our group hear this.”
“You better keep it on the down low for now,” Mercedes said. “I’m still puttin’ the pieces together, but if I’m on the right track, it’s gonna blow Jon Luis’ murder case wide open.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, with Mercedes assuring Cricket she would be at the next author meeting and then told her good-bye before slipping the phone into her back pocket. “It’s a done deal. If Tom Muldoon is Luis’ killer, the same man who set me up, he’ll be here tonight, trying to get his hands on this manuscript.”
Setup in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Cozy Mysteries Series Book 7) Page 13
