Freeze Frame (Killer Shots Mysteries Book 2)

by Lisa B. Thomas

  “Sure. But she doesn’t make the windows of the house rattle.” His perfectly put-together junior banker look appeared uncharacteristically disheveled. He had even loosened his tie.

  Brutus started in on his song again. “Look, I’m here now. I’m sure he will settle down.”

  Curtis stepped down off the porch. “I hope so. It’s bad enough to have a screaming baby, but I don’t want to have to listen to a complaining wife all night, too.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” The perfect-couple façade seemed to have a crack in it.

  “Paradise? All I can say is that you should think long and hard before you decide to have kids. Everything changes, and I mean everything.”

  Poor guy. He really did look dreadful. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s just a phase or something.”

  “A phase that’ll last eighteen years.” He turned and headed back to his house.

  Cricket jumped up on the porch and stared at me as though I’d turned her kitty condo into a time-share.

  “Are you mad at me, too? It’s temporary, I promise.” Brutus barked louder as I fiddled with the key in the lock. “Ugh, this door.” I had intended to get the door handle and lock replaced but kept putting it off. I needed to find a new handyman.

  Brutus looked disappointed when he saw me, but at least he stopped barking.

  Cricket raced past me to her perch. She hissed at Brutus, who must have thought she wanted to play. He galloped over and gave the carpet-covered structure a head butt. It swayed a bit but held in place.

  “Brutus! No, no. Bad dog.” I snapped my fingers, and he looked up at me like I had said it was time to go to the vet for shots. Tucking in his tail, he sulked over to the rug and plopped down.

  I knew I should be glad he had minded, but I felt awful. I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. The only way I knew to make it up to him was to take him with me to see Jake. That would also keep him from howling again when I left. I picked up his leash and waved it at him. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Oh boy, did he. Brutus jumped up and waddled over as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

  Cricket meowed and cocked her head to the side.

  It was no use. I was going to be in hot water with one of these creatures no matter what I did. Maybe this is how parents felt. “You can come, too,” I said as I clipped the leash on Brutus’s collar. “Just keep your distance.”

  I opened the door and she strutted past Brutus like she was the favorite child. This was one of those times I questioned my belief that she was somehow imbued with the spirit of my grandmother. Obviously, that had been my imagination. I think.

  We walked past the Attwood house. Construction had finally been completed on Beverly’s new garage since the fire that had destroyed the old one. Jake lived four houses down the street, but it took a while to get there. Brutus found it necessary to water every tree he passed on the way there.

  Finally, we made it to the porch and knocked on the door.

  Jake greeted us. “I see you brought the whole zoo.”

  Cricket ran inside to the den and found her usual spot on the back of the sofa.

  I followed her in. “Don’t tell me you got a third computer monitor,” I removed Brutus’s leash. “Seriously, are you planning to take over the world or what?”

  He bent down to scratch the dog’s ears. “Important people have lots of equipment.”

  “Really? You should put that on a t-shirt.” I sat down on the sofa and Cricket batted my ponytail. “So what’s this news you wanted me to hear? I had to cut my workout short just for you.”

  “Really? I thought I saw you leave your house not that long ago.”

  It was hard to lie to someone who had constant ears and eyes on the neighborhood. “What are you now, my mother? Actually, my mother wouldn’t care what I did. She’s too busy entertaining the movie crowd and trying to figure out how to cash in on Mr. Squishy’s death on her property.”

  “But wouldn’t that be more likely to turn guests away rather than draw them in?” He walked over to his desk and sat.

  “You would think so, but you can’t convince my mother of that. So what did you find out?”

  Jake flicked on the center monitor. “Did you know that this latest incident wasn’t the first crime in Cascada involving a clown?”

  “What? Do you mean there has been a rash of clown deaths lately and no one has mentioned it?”

  “No,” he chuckled and patted the chair next to his. “Come look at this. I found an old article archived from the Albuquerque Observer. It was part of their weekly news round-up from across the state. Read it.”

  I leaned in and read aloud. “‘Cascada area residents should be on the lookout for a man dressed in a clown costume who broke into several businesses and homes. The unidentified man stole items worth more than five thousand dollars according to the Cascada Sheriff’s Department.’” I looked up at Jake. “When was this?”

  “The article is dated 1982. I searched online for anything else written about the case but came up empty.”

  I read it again. “Do you think this could possibly be related to Mr. Squishy?”

  “That’s the big question.”

  “Maybe there’s a record of the case in the sheriff’s office. But what are the chances of Grady looking into it?”

  “I’d say slim to none.”

  I was afraid of that. “If this article was a round-up of area news, then maybe it was in the Cascada Gazette, too. I’m going to head over to the library to check it out.”

  Jake nodded. “Old-school research. I’m impressed.”

  “Right now, it’s all we’ve got. Might as well check it out. But even if it turns out Squishy was the clown burglar, what good would that do us?”

  “It could lead us to friends and acquaintances.”

  “Or enemies and accomplices.” Cricket jumped off the couch and into my lap.

  “Right. Leopards don’t change their spots, and that goes for clowns, too. Maybe someone wanted this guy dead who we don’t know about. Too bad his cousin Freddy isn’t around to give us more information.”

  Just hearing Freddy’s name got my back up. He was looking more suspicious all the time.

  Cricket must have sensed my anger and let out a screech.

  “Don’t worry, girl, we’ll get this case solved and then you’ll get to be an only child again.” I stood up to leave.

  “Don’t forget this one.” Jake pointed across the room to Brutus.

  The sleeping dog opened one eye at the sound of his name.

  “I guess I’ll drop him off at my house. Curtis will be mad when he starts barking again, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  “Have you tried leaving the TV on for him? Sometimes dogs feel like they’re not alone when there’s noise in the house.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll give it a shot. You’ll make a great dad someday.”

  Jake stood up and took the leash. “Actually, I don’t think you’re allowed to leave your kid home alone with just the TV going. But I could be wrong.”

  “Well, we’ll figure it out when the time comes.” Oops. I couldn’t believe I just said that to his face. It’s like I was already planning our future together. I turned around to hide the blush rising in my cheeks.

  Jake brushed it off. “Hopefully, kids come with an instruction manual. So, are we still on for Friday night?” He bent down to put the leash back on Brutus and gave his head a scratch. “By the way, Nancy has plans, so it’ll just be the two of us.”

  “Plans? Does she have clients that night or what?”

  His face turned stoic the way it does when he’s lost in thought. “She just said she was busy.”

  I grinned and nodded my head, but I knew. Jake had made sure Nancy would be unavailable so we could go out alone. That was fine by me. It would be our first official date.

  Chapter 19

  “You’re the first person to ask to use the microfiche machine in years,” Clara, the head
librarian, said. “This is so exciting!”

  You’d have thought I’d told her she’d just won the lottery.

  After finding the old film reel of the 1982 edition of the Gazette, she led me to a small carrel in the back of the library. When she pulled the plastic cover off the large machine, dust flew everywhere.

  Coughing and swatting at the floating particles, I felt ancient. I had used one of these machines back in school. Maybe I was getting old and dusty, too. Pretty soon, I’d be wearing support hose and using rose water like Gran.

  Clara extolled the wonders of the microfiche, but all I heard was “wah-wah-wah.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.” I took a seat. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

  Once alone in my cave, I began scanning through the pages of the newspaper, stopping occasionally to look at an interesting headline or photo. Something caught my eye. It was an article about the Waterfall Lodge with a picture of my dad and his uncle holding up a big string of fish. I skimmed the article. Apparently, they had won a bass fishing contest. My father looked so young with his long, stringy hair and dark mustache. He reminded me of my brother.

  My stomach clenched at the thought of how things used to be. As my mother said, “We used to be so close.” All of us.

  But this was not the time to get all weepy about the past. I needed to focus on the task at hand. I zoomed ahead to the week in question. There it was in big, bold letters: “Crooked Clown Burglarizes Businesses, Homes.” I read through the article.

  Score. I found a lead. The article mentioned an address where one of the robberies had occurred. Apparently, a child had seen a man dressed as a clown the night of the home invasion. The details were sketchy, but it gave the name of Deputy Benjamin Jeffries who was working on the case.

  The name of the officer didn’t sound familiar. Chances were he was long gone from Cascada since the crime had occurred more than thirty years ago. Still, it was a start. I snapped a picture of the screen since the archaic machine wasn’t hooked up to a printer. My hopes were rising that this case was related to Mr. Squishy. After all, how many shady clowns could there be in one small town?

  I texted a message to Jake with the deputy’s name, hoping he’d be able to track the man down. After telling Clara I was finished with the microfiche, I started to leave when someone called my name. I turned around to find Leslie Harper’s friend Susan.

  “Funny seeing you twice in two days,” she said with a smile. “Are you here to help with the book sale?”

  “What? No, I was just doing some research.”

  “Too bad. We could use some extra muscle sorting through all the donated books. Leslie just hasn’t been herself since the party on Saturday. Maybe she’s coming down with something.”

  Something like a bad case of “cheating husband syndrome.” Apparently, she hadn’t shared that germ of info with her friend.

  Susan stared into the distance. “I really hoped she wouldn’t start drinking again, but…” She looked up at me as though she’d just remembered I was there. “Oh dear. I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t tell anyone.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” My other hand was behind my back with my fingers crossed. What I didn’t say was that I would keep her secret as long as it didn’t relate to the death of the clown. “How long have you two known each other?”

  She blew out a sigh. “Since the womb. Our mothers were best friends and were pregnant with us at the same time. Sometimes they’d even dress us alike and try to pass us off as twins.”

  I felt a tinge of envy. My own best friend had moved out of state when I was twelve, and I’d never found anyone with whom I’d felt the same connection. Until Nancy, that is. “It’s great that you two have stayed so close all these years. Good friends are hard to find.”

  “I know. We’ve been through a lot together, but we’ve always had each other’s backs. Marriage and divorce and now this thing with Preston and that awful clown. She’s had a tough year.”

  It was time to go fishing. “Actually, that’s why I’m here doing research. I’m hoping to figure out what really happened at the party.”

  She bristled. “But they arrested a woman. I heard she admitted she locked him in the freezer.”

  “Not exactly. She said she locked the freezer, not that she locked the clown inside. Sheriff Grady has jumped the gun on this one.”

  “This is all Preston’s fault.” The veins on Susan’s neck began to throb. “I wish Leslie had never met him.” A scowl wedged its way across her face. “I hate to say this, but there are some people who are better off dead.” She turned and stormed off.

  What did she mean by that? Was she blaming Squishy’s death on Leslie’s husband? I remembered Leslie had mentioned it was Preston who had been insistent she hire Gwen Palmer to organize the party. Was that what she meant?

  I knew better than to try to talk to Susan in the state she was in now. Besides, the library was about to close, and I had a howling dog and precocious cat waiting for me at home. If it hadn’t already been dark out, I’d have driven by the address mentioned in the newspaper. But that would have to wait until morning.

  For now, I just had to hope that Preston Harper wasn’t going to be the next person to turn up at the morgue.

  Chapter 20

  Small mountain towns were often overlooked but certainly weren’t off the grid. Still, GPS directions were a little sketchy in places like Cascada, but you could usually get to the general vicinity you were searching for. I pulled up to the house on Casa Grande the next morning before going to the studio. It was one of the bigger houses in this part of town since most of the large residences were in the upper canyon.

  The old adobe house was in desperate need of repair. It sat back from the road behind a wooden fence with peeling paint and missing boards. The name on the mailbox was faded and the flag on the side was bent.

  Did anyone still live there? The old structure had a neglected, abandoned look. I walked through the gate up the path to the front door, leaning in to listen for noise coming from inside. When I didn’t hear anything, I knocked. I waited and then knocked again.

  When no one came to the door, I walked around the side of the house. A large woodpile and some chickens indicated the house was occupied. The yard was littered with rusty bikes and deflated sports balls. An old plastic sandbox in the shape of a turtle was filled with muddy snow.

  The news article about the robbery said a child at this house had been an eyewitness and had seen the clown. How old would that child be now?

  As I circled back to the front door, it flew wide open as a gray-haired woman in a floral housedress waved a rolling pin at me. “What are you doing snooping around my house? Are you a bill collector?”

  For a moment, I thought I was being accosted by the old lady who lived in a shoe. Perhaps she had so many children she didn’t know what to do. “No, ma’am. I’m Wendy Fairmont, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

  “What are you selling?” she asked, lowering the rolling pin.

  “Nothing. Honest. I was just trying to find information about something that happened in this house back in the eighties. Were you here back then?”

  “Heck no. I’m just renting the place. I’ve been here about five years is all.”

  Was this going to be a dead end? “Oh, I see. Then do you know the name of the owners?”

  “Nope, but not because I don’t want to help you out. I make my check out to a management company. I have no idea who the actual owner is.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “And I pay my rent on time. Well, usually, that is. The owners aren’t as quick to make repairs as they should, so I figure I don’t have to be as fast getting them my check, if you know what I mean.” She tucked the rolling pin under her arm. “The only reason I stay here is because the place has lots of bedrooms. I’ve got a bunch of kids, most are grown.”

  This wasn’t exactly t
he information I was hoping to get. I thanked the woman and headed back to the studio. I needed to know who owned that property in 1982. Maybe I could do a title search? How long would that take?

  As I got out of my car, it hit me. Nancy might be able to access the information I needed. After all, she was in the real estate business. I walked down the square to her office. She owed me a favor after our visit to the falls. Or did I owe her a favor? No matter.

  I found her slumped over a steaming cup of coffee as though she were getting a facial. “What’s with you?” I asked, looking at her eyes. “I haven’t seen bags that big since Ikea opened in Dallas.”

  She yawned. “I was up late last night. Didn’t get my beauty sleep.”

  “Out on a big date?”

  Blushing, she took a swig of coffee. “No, not exactly. We were talking on the phone…”

  I crossed my arms. “So who is he? Jake told me you were busy Friday night, but I didn’t believe him.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s…complicated.”

  “Complicated as in Leslie and Preston Harper complicated?”

  “If you’re asking if he’s married, the answer is no. It’s new. By the way, why are you here at the crack of dawn? Trying to coax me into going on another one of your wilderness adventures?”

  I decided to let her keep her secret, at least for now. “I need a favor. If I give you an address, can you figure out who owned the property back in the eighties?”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. What’s this about?”

  I explained Jake’s lead and the police report from the newspaper. I gave her the address and she said she’d see what she could do.

  “Thanks, girlfriend,” I said. “I owe you one.”

  “You mean you owe me another one.”

  “Ugh. Friends don’t keep score.” I stood up to leave. “Have fun on your date.”

  “You, too.”

  I planned to. However, I could have more fun if I didn’t have Myra’s arrest hanging around my shoulders. Maybe this lead would pan out and the whole affair would be history by the weekend.