A Berry Murderous Kitten: A Laugh-Out-Loud Kylie Berry Mystery (Kylie Berry Mysteries Book 2)

by A. R. Winters

  We then headed in the direction of Wilmington Heights and passed a long chain of fast food joints on the way.

  “Hey, wait.” I twisted in my seat as we passed a burger place. A blue car with a big dent in the front fender was sitting at the drive-through window, and the driver of the car was being handed a large bag of food and a drink. “I think that might be Jared’s car.” We had already driven past, and I twisted around in my seat to watch. “He hasn’t pulled out of the parking lot yet. Maybe he stopped to eat in his car.”

  Zoey pulled across the oncoming lane into the parking lot of the seasonally closed Fresh Foods air market before getting us back on the road, heading in the direction from which we’d come. She turned at the spot I’d seen Jared’s car, and we cruised the lot. “There,” she said. “It’s him.”

  She pulled into an open spot a couple of cars down from Jared, and we got out. I felt like the dynamic duo, crime-fighting wonders, as we approached his car. Not wanting to risk him driving off mid-interview, I opened the door of the passenger seat and got in, and Zoey slid into the back seat.

  “Hey!” Jared exclaimed with a mash of fries sticking out of his mouth. It looked as though he’d sprouted tentacles. “What are you doing? Get out!”

  “Swallow before you choke,” Zoey said, leaning forward over the front seat divider. She picked up his soda from the console and handed it to him.

  Jared chewed, chewed some more, and then swallowed the mash down with the help of his soda. “Is this a hijack? Are you hijacking me? I’ve heard about women like you. I’m saving myself for marriage. Get out or I’ll call the police.”

  “Why’d you kill Cam?” I asked. The direct approach hadn’t succeeded to get a confession out of Steph, but Jared didn’t know that. Maybe he’d spill.

  “Cam got what was coming to him,” Jared said.

  Not exactly a confession. I’d try again. “Is that why you killed him, because he had it coming?”

  “I didn’t kill Cam, but I’d like to know who did. I’d like to shake their hand.”

  Zoey leaned her head into the mix. “If you hated Cam so much you wanted him dead, why should we believe you didn’t do it yourself?”

  Jared stretched to get a better look at Zoey and then jerked away. “Don’t hurt me. Please. Take my wallet. Anything.”

  I looked from Jared to Zoey and back. “Why do you think Zoey’s going to hurt you?” She weighed at least two-hundred pounds less than him. He could have knocked her over with a nudge from his elbow. The guy had a lot of mass. There was no way Zoey could beat him in a hand-to-hand scuffle.

  “She stabbed Cam. Gutted him. I heard about it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that how you think Cam died, that he was gutted?”

  “No,” Jared admitted, seemingly sullenly. “His head was half cut off from being strangled with a piano wire.”

  I looked at Zoey. “You own a piano?”

  “Nope.”

  “Fix pianos? Own the stuff to do maintenance on pianos?”

  “Nope and nope.”

  “See,” I said to Jared. “It wasn’t her.” I stole one of Jared’s fries and savored the salty pop of flavor. The crackers Susie had given me were wearing off. He looked too terrified to try to stop me. I had to admit, the power of fear was intoxicating.

  “But I can find some piano wire if that would help jog your memory,” Zoey said.

  My gaze shot to Zoey. “No, no. We can’t threaten bodily harm. He could press charges.” Then to Jared, I said, “We’re not going to hurt you.” I reached out a hand to pat his arm in reassurance, but he jerked away. The big man was a mouse. Unless he was faking it, he wasn’t our killer.

  “Jared,” I said again, “did you kill Cam?” I spoke calm and slow with as much reassurance as I could build into the question.

  He shook his head no. His eyes were as the size of saucers. “Will you go now? Will you get out? Or I could get out. You could take my car.”

  I did need a car… I gave myself a mental shake to dislodge the thought.

  “Where were you the night that Cam was killed?” Zoey asked.

  Jared’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh! I know this one! I was playing poker with the guys. We were at Ned’s house, Ned Mayes.”

  I hung my head and wanted to groan. Not Ned again. With a few redeeming moments, every time I’d been around him, I left wanting to take a shower. He was a larger-than-life version of Squiggy, missing his Lenny, from Laverne and Shirley. Not only were his clothes and hair greasy, his personality was greasy.

  “Who else was there?” I asked, taking out my handy dandy tiny notepad to write down the names. “And who is Patty?” That was the name I’d overheard some of the customers mention at the café.

  “Patty…” Jared’s expression darkened and it lost some of the innocence his nerves had given him. “Why are you asking about her?”

  “Wait a minute,” Zoey said. “Do you know Patty?”

  Jared stared straight ahead and said nothing.

  “So you do know Patty,” I said. Nobody got that emotional one way or the other over someone they had no connection with. On top of that, his unwillingness to say anything about her made me think that it was his way of trying to protect her. So, he cared about her. Whatever had happened between them, he still had feelings for her. “What’s she to you?” Silence from Jared. “Did she leave you for Cam? Cheat on you with Cam?”

  “Shut up! Patty’s a saint.”

  Him knowing Patty became a definite yes.

  “Do you think that Patty could have killed Cam?” Zoey asked.

  Jared’s brows migrated toward each other. “How did Cam actually die?” he asked.

  “He was strangled,” I said, “but his neck wasn’t cut up.”

  “Cam was a skinny guy,” Jared said and then shook his head, “but I don’t think she could have managed it. Last time I saw her she had a cast on her arm and she looked pretty banged up. She had bruises and stuff. Even if she’d wanted to kill Cam, she wouldn’t have been able to.”

  I didn’t know about Zoey, but that description didn’t make her sound too innocent to me. It sounded like a really great motive. “Did Cam have a habit of getting rough with her?” Of course, she could have gotten the injuries while she was killing him.

  “No.” Jared’s eyes were fierce. “If he had, I really woulda killed him then. She’d said she was in a car accident.”

  “When did you see her last?” Zoey asked.

  “A week and a half ago.”

  That had been before Cam’s death, and that meant that she couldn’t have gotten her injuries during his death throes.

  “So what’s her last name and where does she work?” I asked.

  Jared clammed shut again. He wasn’t saying anything.

  Satisfied that Jared hadn’t killed Cam, Zoey and I got out of the car to let Jared eat in peace. But he wasn’t sticking around. He almost rolled over my foot backing out of the parking spot. I had to do a little dance to protect my toes. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see the burger flying at my head. Meat, special sauce, and pickles exploded into my newly coiffed hair.

  Throwing my arms down in frustration, I stomped toward Zoey’s car.

  “Uh-uh,” Zoey said, shaking a finger at me. “Not in my car. That stuff gets on my upholstery and I’ll be smelling burgers ’til spring.”

  Chapter 17

  A quick wash-up inside the Pork-Belly Burger’s bathroom and I was back in Zoey’s car. My recently bigger-than-life hair was now damp and pulled back into a slick French braid. Even after getting burger bombed and then fast-food bathroom washed, it still looked good. Susie had set me up with some resilient crime-fighting hair.

  “Look at it,” I said, preening in the rearview mirror as Zoey drove. “You can still see the highlights.”

  “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Yeah, let’s talk to Ned. He’s probably at his garage. Do you know where it is?”

  “I think so.”

>   Zoey’s “I think so” was better than most people’s “I know so.” She had us there five minutes later. When we pulled up Ned’s auto repair shop, its wide, metal door was up and Ned was inside playing peekaboo under the hood of a primo cotton candy pink 1957 Chevy. As gorgeous and distinct as the car was, I wouldn’t have known its make and year if it hadn’t been for the sign posted on the side of the garage advertising the car for sale.

  “Do we know that Ned is innocent?” Zoey asked.

  I thought about it a moment. “If he was at the poker game with Jared, then I guess that would make him innocent.”

  “What if they’re covering for each other? What if one of them snuck out during the game?”

  There were so many what-ifs to consider. It was mind numbing.

  I shrugged. “We’ll see if everybody’s story matches everybody else’s and go from there.”

  We got out and strode into the garage. Ned stuck his head to the side, spotting us. He smiled big as his eyes did a top down and up over me.

  “Hey! There’s my favorite piece of carrot cake,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag that looked dirtier than his hands. “You decide you can’t get enough of me?”

  “Hi, Ned.” I smiled, trying my best to be congenial and polite, but I could feel my lips quivering with the effort. Ned smelled of oil and gas. It was two odd smells I liked, but not on him. Replace him with a beefy lumberjack from the Yukon and I’d be trying to figure out how to write my phone number on his chest in permanent ink. But given that it was Ned, I was trying to figure out how to be friendly without giving off any indication that I wanted to be friends. “That’s a nice car you have there.”

  “Yeah, she’s a beaut.” He gave the car an affectionate pat. “She’s not mine, though. I’m selling her on commission.” His brows lifted from what I guessed was a sudden idea. “And I do believe I am looking at one young lady who does not have a car. Want the two of us to take her out for a test drive? I can have all her delicates put back in place in a jiffy.”

  “No, oh no.” I waved him off with a little bit more enthusiasm than I’d meant to. Clearing my throat, I tried to cover my intense desire not to be in a confined space with him. “We actually want to know about your poker game. Did you have one last Monday night?”

  “We have one every Monday. You two wanting to join? It’s a bit of a boys’ club, but they’d get over it.”

  “Who are the ‘boys?’” Zoey asked, and I was thankful for the sidestep. That meant I could pretend Ned didn’t just ask us if we wanted to join.

  “What’s this about?” he asked, looking at me.

  “Cam,” I said.

  “Ahhh, investigating another murder?” He shifted his gaze to Zoey. “You out to prove your innocence like Kylie did?”

  “Nobody’s saying she’s guilty,” I said, jumping in. “We’re just making sure it stays that way.” And making sure that the police don’t have a reason to follow through on a search. All of her computer equipment could remain unsullied by their warrant-wielding hands.

  “And what’s all that got to do with my Thursday night poker game?” He crossed his arms over his chest and squared his stance. He wanted some answers of his own, and he wasn’t going to budge until he got them.

  “Jared,” I said but didn’t say any more. I watched his expression to see if any thoughts flitted across his face. The only one I saw was confusion. He wasn’t coming up with any links to tie Jared to Cam’s death. It was time for me to explain. “Jared likes to eat out at Bouche,” I said.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So he and Cam didn’t get along too well. They got into a big argument right there in the restaurant.”

  “Don’t forget about Patty,” Zoey said. “Seems to have been a love triangle going on.”

  “Ohhh,” Ned said, his face twisting. “Don’t tell me he’s still hung up on her. If he’s got a shot with her, then I’ve got a shot with Scarlett Johansson.”

  I was sure there might be a when-hell-freezes-over declaration coming. “So things weren’t looking good for him?”

  “Nope.” Ned uncrossed his arms, leaned a hand against the car, and propped his foot toe down by crossing it over his ankle. The man was ready to cooperate.

  “Mind if we follow up with your other poker buddies, you know, dot all the Is and cross all Ts?”

  “Naw, I don’t mind.” He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and handed it over to me. “Other than Jared, it’s Greg, Brian, Paul and Junior. Go ahead and call ‘em. They’re in my contacts.”

  “Thanks!” I took the phone and stepped aside, leaving Zoey and Ned to chitchat. Fifteen minutes later I had confirmation from all the guys that they were at Ned’s on Thursday night to play poker and nobody disappeared for more than fifteen minutes. I also asked each person what the other guys drove, but when I hung up the phone for the last time, I realized that while Ned didn’t drive a car like what we’d seen on the video, that didn’t mean he hadn’t had access to one. “Hey Ned, you got a register of all the cars you’ve worked on over the last couple of weeks?”

  “Why?” His suspicion was back.

  “We saw the car the killer was driving,” Zoey said.

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Maybe it matches one of the cars you’ve recently worked on,” I answered. “Could have been one of your customers.”

  “Humph,” he said. “More likely you’re wonderin’ if ol’ Ned was dumb enough to go kill Cam using one of the cars I’ve worked on.” He was none too happy. “Go on. I’ve been nice about you nosing around, but git.” He pointed an angry finger at me. “Go on, git.”

  We got. If getting a list of cars that Ned had recently worked on was still an issue after we hunted down some other leads, we’d circle back around to it.

  “Where to next?” Zoey asked once we were back in the car.

  “Ned had a Patty listed in his contacts. Patty Rogerton. Think you can find out enough about her online for us to be able to track her down?”

  “One way to find out,” Zoey said. She reached into the backseat of her car and retrieved a computer tablet. “You Google. I’ll drive.”

  Chapter 18

  That can’t be her,” I said, squinting my eyes in an effort to see better as I stared out the front window of Zoey’s car. Patty’s picture on Facebook had been pretty, but the girl we were looking at across the parking lot was drop dead gorgeous. With her one good arm she was assisting a line of first graders with getting on a school bus. Her other arm was in a colorful cast and strapped to her chest in a sling.

  “I can see why Ned compared her to Scarlett Johansson,” Zoey said.

  “I didn’t think you had people who looked like that in this town. I thought they only existed in Hollywood… after hours of makeup and a little CGI thrown in.”

  Patty Rogerton, first grade teacher at Camden Falls Elementary, had thick blonde hair that cascaded down her back in a way reminiscent of a rippling stream. She had a bombshell pinup model’s body, and a sweet, eager smile for everyone who met her eyes. I hadn’t even met her yet, but I was guilty of a girl-crush already.

  We waited for all the kids to get on the bus and for the parents to drift away with their kids before getting out of Zoey’s car. I felt like a couple of stalkers as we approached Patty, but we had Zoey’s innocence to prove. That was worth a little stalkerish behavior.

  We managed to catch up with Patty just as her one good hand reached the school’s door.

  “Ms. Rogerton,” I called. She stopped, turned and greeted us with the same friendly smile that she had given everybody else. Even with the fading bruises still visible beneath her light makeup, she was as beautiful close up as she had been at a distance. I searched her face, wondering if she were putting on a nice act, but I couldn’t find anything false in her features.

  “We were hoping to talk to you a few minutes,” Zoey said.

  “Sure. Do you two have a child who you’re planning to enroll?”<
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  To my shock and embarrassment, I actually took a step back. Instantly I thought again about whose decision it had been to wait to have children, and I second-guessed my claim that it had been Dan’s desire to wait and not mine.

  “No kids, neither one of us,” Zoey said. “We actually wanted to talk to you about Cam.”

  “Ohhh…” Her cheeks turned pink. “What about Cam?”

  “You knew him?” I asked.

  “Yes, I-I knew him,” Patty said, her gaze dropping to the ground.

  “So you’ve heard?” Zoey asked.

  “That he’s gone? Yes.” She lifted her gaze to meet ours once more, and a resilient strength seemed to wrap itself around her.

  “Were you two close?” I asked.

  “At one time. What’s this about?”

  “We’re investigating his murder,” Zoey said.

  “You’re police,” she said as a statement rather than a question, and I could see surprise in her eyes.

  “No,” I said. “We’re private investigators.” Not a lie, not really. We were private citizens investigating Cam’s murder.

  I tried to envision her standing against a brick wall in the dark. She was taller than Zoey and me by several inches. Her shoulders were broader, and her arms would have good reach. She wasn’t as tall as Cam, though, and she didn’t look especially strong. But looks could be deceiving. I glanced at the cast. It wasn’t really a cast in that it wasn’t made of plaster. It was plastic and had tabs and a hinge that allowed it to be removed.

  “How did you know Cam?” Zoey asked.

  “He was my boyfriend,” Patty said. “I mean, he used to be my boyfriend… until he cheated on me.”

  If my jaw could have hit the ground, it would have. What man in their right mind would cheat on her? She was the epitome of “all that” and more.

  Sudden and heavy depression sank over me. If a man would cheat on her, they’d cheat on anyone. No woman had a chance of being good enough or perfect enough to keep a man from straying.

  I heard Homer Simpson yell “D’oh!” inside my head. If no woman could be perfect enough or good enough to keep a man from straying, that meant that men didn’t stray because of women. That still didn’t tell me why some men cheated, but knowing that Dan’s cheating had had nothing to do with me felt like a wet blanket of insecurity being lifted from my soul. And it was a blanket I hadn’t even known had been there.