Well-Offed in Vermont: A Pret’ Near Perfect Mystery

by Amy Patricia Meade

  “Did you confront Allen about it?”

  “No, I figured it was time to move on.”

  “So you broke up with Weston over a woman whose identity you don’t know,” Nick summarized.

  “No, there was the business thing too. But if you’re asking if the woman was the straw that broke the camel’s back, absolutely. I realize it sounds strange, but I’ve known Bunny a lot longer than I’d known Allen. And, to be honest, I hadn’t trusted him in months. I guess I was looking for something to put the nail in the coffin. Bunny’s story did the trick.”

  “When did you break up with him?”

  “Earlier this week. I went to his office pretending to want an estimate on a new well.”

  “How did Allen take it?”

  Alma’s eyes welled with tears. “He shrugged and said ‘That’s too bad.’ Then he said he had to get back to work. That’s it … nothing else—no stop, I love you. Just a shrug and a get lost.”

  “You poor thing,” Stella said sympathetically. “To think you wasted your time on such a jerk.”

  “Yeah, that’s too bad,” Nick spoke up. “But why are you telling us all this?”

  “I’m not a stupid woman. Allen’s reaction gives me a reason for wanting him dead. But I also know it’s better that I tell you everything now than to have you find out on your own.”

  “Yeah, I get that. What I mean is, why us? Why not go to the police? Why not tell Sheriff Mills?”

  Alma looked up in fear. “He already knows.”

  “He does?”

  “Well, I’m not sure he knows the details, but it was the morning after I broke up with Allen. I had been up all night crying, so you could imagine what a mess I was. Mills showed up at his usual time, but it was raining, so I let him in before opening. I tried to be strong, I really did, but I eventually broke down and told him what had happened. Before I could even finish the story, he was off his stool and out of the shop.”

  “What day was this?”

  “The day before you arrived. The day before Allen was killed.”

  Stella felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest. Was it possible that the sheriff had killed Weston—not out of jealousy but out of vengeance for the woman he loved?

  “Did you see Mills the next morning?” Nick continued.

  “Yes, he showed up at his usual time. Like always.”

  “How was he?”

  “Things were a bit awkward at first. I apologized for my outburst, and he excused me, like I knew he would. He said he understood what I was going through, assured me that everything would be okay, and then offered to listen if I needed to talk. I thanked him, and breakfast went on as usual.”

  “Do you think he killed Allen Weston?”

  “I honestly don’t know. The way he reassured me everything would be okay didn’t strike me as strange at the time, but now … I’m not sure if I actually suspect him or if I’m just in shock over the way he ran out of the shop that morning. It was so … so unlike him.”

  “Why would you be in shock? He might not react that way often—okay, never—but you’ve gotta know by now that Mills has a thing for you.”

  Alma blushed. “Well, yeah, but I didn’t know it was that big of a thing. He’s normally so quiet, so predictable. I never expected him to react with such passion.”

  “What’s the saying—‘Still waters run deep’?”

  “How deep is the real question,” Stella mused aloud. “Deep enough to shoot Weston?”

  With that, they heard the crunching of tires against the gravel and dirt camp road gradually drawing nearer.

  “Good lord, it’s Charlie,” Alma announced as the Windsor County Sheriff car rolled into view. “Please don’t mention what I’ve told you! If he isn’t the killer and he finds out what I thought about him, it would hurt him so.”

  Having stopped his car behind the Buckleys’ vehicle, Mills jumped out from behind the steering wheel and ran to the front porch of the cabin, leaving the driver’s-side door open behind him. “Alma, thank goodness you’re okay. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “I’m fine, Charlie. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Got a call that someone broke into your next-door neighbor’s home.”

  “Oh my god! Bunny? Is she okay?”

  Mills removed his hat and hung his head. “I’m sorry, Alma, but I’m afraid she’s dead.”

  Chapter

  15

  ALMA, TOO DISTRAUGHT to drive, rode with Stella in the Smart car, while Nick in the pickup and Mills in the patrol car followed them to the trailer Alma shared with her brother. The scene that greeted them was like one from a television police drama. Emergency vehicles, their sirens muted, splashed the surrounding homes and trees with bright blue light while the inside of Bunny’s doublewide, lamps glaring, cast an eerie glow into the inky Vermont darkness.

  Haunted by her conversation with the dead woman, Stella delivered Alma to her brother and ensured that both were settled in before journeying next door, where she found Nick asking the sheriff to recount the details of Bunny’s final moments.

  “Come on,” Nick urged. “You know we had nothing to do with this. Besides, it will be all over town by morning anyway.”

  “Nick’s right. Why, just look at your deputy.” She pointed to the young man in the uniform and wide-brimmed hat who was chatting up a pretty girl in the crowd that had gathered around the police cars.

  Mills sighed. “All right … the killer came in through the back bedroom window and shot the victim in the chest while she watched television. No struggle. Nothing missing. Hunting rifle again, so one bullet did the trick. Whoever did it came in, took care of business, and then took off.”

  “Who found her?” Stella inquired.

  “Hank Reid. He and Bunny had a … relationship. It being Saturday night and all, he called to see if she was free. When she didn’t answer, he came by to check on her.”

  “Reid? And Bunny?”

  “Jeez,” Nick remarked. “Is there a warehouse of little blue pills in this town?”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind my husband, Sheriff; he’s being tested for Tourette’s. We do have some things we need to discuss with you, though. Preferably where no one else can hear us.”

  Mills nodded and led the couple to his car. “This good enough? Or should we get in?”

  Confident that no one was within earshot, Stella shook her head. “This should be fine.”

  “Okay, what is it you want to talk about?”

  “We spoke to Alice about my conversation with Bunny last night.” She launched headlong into the meeting at Vermont Valley Real Estate and Alice’s word of warning.

  “Those are exact words she used? ‘Tell her to watch her back’?” he clarified when she had finished.

  “Yes.”

  “And you figured you’d wait until someone else was dead to tell me all of this?”

  Nick leapt to the defensive. “If memory serves me correctly, I told you about Bunny this morning at Alma’s, but you dismissed her as an ‘eccentric busybody.’ And yes, those were the exact words you used.”

  “That was before Alice Broadman confessed to mortgage fraud and threatened another woman’s life. Why you would keep something like that quiet is beyond me.”

  “Oh, and you haven’t kept anything quiet, I suppose,” Stella retaliated.

  Sheriff Mills blanched. “What do you mean?”

  “Alma told us about her relationship with Weston and how you ran out of the Sweet Shop the day before the murder. I’m sure neither of those details have made it into your case files. When did you plan on coming clean?” Stella hesitated before speaking again but decided to go for broke, if only to see the sheriff’s reaction. “Or are you trying to cover the fact that you murdered Weston?”

  “Now hold on a minute, there. I’ll admit I had an axe to grind with Weston, but why would I want to kill some harmless gossip?”

  “Because the night I met her at Perkins, Bunny
mentioned your name as a suspect too.”

  “My name?”

  “Bunny didn’t know the extent of Alma and Weston’s relationship, but she had noticed a certain chemistry between them. She suggested you’d noticed the same thing and did away with Weston out of jealousy.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it? Everyone in town knows you go to Alma’s first thing every morning. It’s obvious you have feelings for her. Even though I’m sure most people probably dismiss it as a silly crush, I’m certain it’s more.”

  “All right,” Mills yielded to Stella’s reasoning. “What do you want me to say? That I care about Alma? Of course I do. That’s why I was trying to protect her.”

  “By killing Weston?” Nick asked.

  “No, not that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind. I remember that morning at Alma’s. Didn’t want to pry, but I could see she’d been crying. Put up a brave front, she did, but she caved in the end. Didn’t tell me details, just that she couldn’t believe he had hurt her like that. That’s what she kept saying over and over; couldn’t even say his name. That’s how upset she was.

  “Again, I didn’t want to push,” Mills went on, “but I had to confirm my suspicions. See, Bunny was right. I had noticed Weston in the shop a few times, eyeing Alma up and down, so I had an idea he was the man in question, but I wanted—I needed—to hear it straight from Alma.”

  “Did she eventually tell you?”

  “Yup. When she finally said his name, I felt my blood boil. Don’t know if I’ve ever been that angry before. I flew out of the shop and drove directly to Weston’s house.”

  “Was he there?”

  “Yup, cocky son of a bitch came to the door in his bathrobe and slippers, looking like some backwoods Hugh Hefner. I was all ready to tear a strip off him, but he didn’t give me a chance. Seems that, unknown to me, Weston had called the police before I left Alma’s. He thought I was answering the call.”

  “Why did Weston call the police?” Stella asked.

  “Spotted Maggie Lawson sneaking around his property.”

  “Looking for her treasure, no doubt,” Nick inserted.

  “She told you that story, huh?” Mills said.

  “With gusto … and firepower.”

  “That’s strange,” Stella said. “Maggie told Nick and me that Weston had never called the police on her, but you’re saying he had.”

  “I doubt she even knew about it. Though I still wanted to punch Weston in the face, I guess the cop in me kicked in. I looked around for Maggie but she weren’t there. Disappeared into the trees, prolly. She’s stealthy that way.”

  “Great,” Nick exclaimed. “We’re living next door to a trigger- happy ninja.”

  Stella rolled her eyes. “What happened when you couldn’t find Maggie?”

  “I went back to Weston, told him Maggie was gone, and then gave him a piece of my mind about Alma. You know that jackass acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about? So I made it simple: if he went near Alma again, I’d shoot him. He got that message all right.”

  “You threatened to shoot him?”

  “Now, don’t give me that look, Mrs. Buckley. He was younger and in better shape.” Mills placed his hands on his belly. “How else was I supposed to threaten him—with a lifetime of parking tickets?”

  “No, I suppose not. Was that the end of your meeting?”

  “Yup. Not much left to discuss after you threaten to shoot someone.”

  “Did you see Weston again before he died?”

  “Nope. Gotta admit finding him in your well gave me quite a turn. Alma had been so upset ’bout what Weston had done to her that—and I’m not proud of it—I assumed she was the one who shot him. Then when she showed up later that day? Well … that’s why I didn’t tell you about meeting Weston and why I kept saying it was a hunting accident. I was trying to protect Alma.”

  “That’s very noble of you, Sheriff, but doesn’t it bother you that she might have killed a man?”

  “It was starting to weigh on me a bit. That’s why I’m so glad I found her with you tonight. That puts her in the clear.”

  “So it’s a definite that the same person who killed Weston killed Bunny,” Nick surmised.

  “Not definite. We need the coroner’s report. But pret’ near certain.”

  “Um, not to rain on your parade, Sheriff,” Stella interrupted, “but how long has Bunny been dead?”

  “About two or three hours. Why?”

  “We can’t put Alma in the clear,” Nick deduced.

  “She was at our place when we got there. We never saw her arrive. She could have been there anywhere from six hours to six minutes.”

  Mills removed his hat and scratched his ginger hair. “I don’t figure Alma would kill Bunny. She’d have no cause.”

  “No cause? If Bunny was as everyone says, she might have known the identity of Weston’s killer. That gives all our suspects a reason to want her dead—including you, Sheriff. And Alma.”

  “Alma’s gotta have an alibi.”

  “What about you? Do you have one?”

  “I was in my car, driving home. Been there an hour or so when the scanner picked up the call.”

  “So neither you nor Alma have an alibi for Bunny’s death.”

  “Look, I’ll think of something. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep my threats against Weston under your hats.”

  “No problem,” Nick reassured him. “You have our word.”

  “And, ummm … the Weston and Alma affair too?”

  “What? You mean you’re willing to put your job on the line to protect Alma? Even if she’s guilty?” Nick said disapprovingly. “I know you care about the woman, but if she killed someone in cold blood—”

  “If she did, she had plenty good reason. Listen, I’ve seen lots of domestic violence situations. Women either accept it or they fight back—”

  “Wait,” Stella ordered. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about? Alma never said anything to us about Weston being abusive.”

  “She didn’t? What did she tell you?”

  “She told us she felt angry and hurt because Weston was seeing someone else.”

  “Is that why they … ? When she said he hurt her, I—I thought she meant he got physical.”

  “Did she have bruises or cuts when you saw her?”

  “No, but I didn’t know if Weston, you know, forced himself on her.”

  “Sorry, Mills, I’m afraid she went gently into that good night,” Nick joked.

  “Oh,” Mills said in a disappointed tone, but his mood quickly lightened. “That’s great news.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re relieved. I know I’d be a mental case if someone ever laid a hand on Stella.”

  “There’s that, sure. But if Weston didn’t beat Alma, that means she’s in the clear again.”

  “I’m not sure I follow your logic, Sheriff. If Weston cheated on Alma and then acted like a dirtbag during their breakup, she still has a motive.”

  “On paper, sure. But Alma wouldn’t have killed Weston over another woman. If she was that type, her ex-husband would have been dead years ago. The only thing that would have pushed her over the edge was violence.”

  “It’s not scientific, and it definitely wouldn’t hold up in court.”

  “Don’t matter. She’s innocent and that’s that.”

  Stella, meanwhile, was still incredulous. “So, let me get this straight: you’ve been sneaking around trying to protect Alma because you thought she shot Weston. Meanwhile, Alma …” her voice trailed off.

  “What?” Mills pressed. “What about Alma?”

  “I can’t. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll bring you in for questioning.”

  “You! After all you told me …? You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Try me,” Mills threatened.

  Stella gave in. “Okay. Alma came over to the camp tonight to tell us she suspected you bu
t didn’t want to rat you out to your colleagues.”

  “Alma thought I was the murderer? Hmph … imagine that. And she wanted to protect me?”

  “She sure did. The last thing out of her mouth before you showed up was that she didn’t want you to find out she suspected you. She was afraid you’d be hurt by it.”

  Mills’s blue eyes sparkled. “She was concerned about hurting me?”

  “Jeezus, it’s like a twisted O. Henry story,” Nick complained. “Next thing you know, you’ll be buying each other combs and pocket watches. Although technically you’re both still on the suspect list and none of this nonsense has provided either of you with an alibi, I, for one, think you’re both too corny to have shot Weston. Which feels good, because I’m getting kinda attached to you crazy, lovesick kids.”

  “Thanks, Nick. Thing that doesn’t make me feel good right now is taking Alice Broadman into custody. Woman has a husband and two young children.”

  “Do you have enough to arrest her?”

  “Not for murder, but she did confess to mortgage fraud, and that’s plenty serious these days. Could be in jail for ten years.”

  “Those poor people. It’s not going to be a very happy weekend in the Broadman household,” Stella sadly remarked.

  “Nope. Say, why don’t you folks head home? I’ll be by in the morning with coffee, and maybe we can talk more about the case, if that’s all right,” Mills requested. “I’d like your input on some things.”

  “Sure,” Nick acquiesced. “What do you think, honey?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Mills nodded in agreement and headed back to the crime scene but not before pausing to shout back to Stella and Nick, “And hey, thanks. For everything.”

  Chapter

  16

  AFTER A GOOD night’s sleep on the new air mattress, Nick and Stella sat on the front porch of the hunting camp awaiting the arrival of Sheriff Mills and, of equal importance, their morning coffee.

  The sun had risen upon another unseasonably warm day, but whereas the previous day had been dry and clear, today’s heat was already accompanied by an uncomfortably high level of humidity.