1 Dead Wrong

by Leighann Dobbs

  “What was that all about?” Jake swiveled his head looking first at Fiona then at Morgan.

  Fiona let out a long breath. “That’s Eli Stark, a real estate developer. He’s been after us to sell this piece of land so he can build condos or something.”

  “Thanks for scaring him off.” Morgan said to Jake.

  “We could have taken care of him ourselves,” Fiona crossed her arms against her chest. “What can we help you with?”

  Jake raised his eyebrows and looked back at Morgan. Fiona noticed that he wasn’t wearing his cop uniform. Which hopefully meant he wasn’t there on police business. But then, why was he there?

  She let her eyes wander over the plain gray tee-shirt he wore and noticed uncomfortably that the shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and extra-large biceps, making her wonder what was under the rest of it.

  Her gaze seemed to have a mind of its own and made its way down to his trim waist. He was wearing faded jeans and Fiona felt her cheeks grow hot when she started to imagine what was under them.

  “I asked him to come here. Jake’s going to help us.” Morgan’s words caused Fiona to rip her gaze from Jake and focus it on her sister.

  “What? Why?” she sputtered.

  “I thought we needed some help finding the killer,” Morgan said.

  Fiona narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think we can trust anyone but ourselves to do that.”

  “Look, it’s clear that Overton wants to pin this on me. I have no idea why, but I’m pretty sure having someone on the inside can’t hurt.”

  Fiona nodded her head toward Jake. “But he could be feeding everything you tell him to Overton.”

  Morgan looked over at Jake who stood quietly in the middle of the room swiveling his head back and forth as if at a tennis match while he watched the two sisters battle it out. Fiona noticed Belladonna had wandered over to make his acquaintance which consisted of weaving in and out between his ankles.

  “I don’t think so. My gut instincts tell me we can trust him. Besides Jake has plenty of detective experience from his last job. He could be an invaluable asset.”

  Fiona felt butterflies in her stomach. The trouble was she couldn’t be sure if it was trepidation at letting Jake help them or the fact that she kept noticing that he looked pretty good out of his cop clothes.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out. “Ok, fine. It’s your ass on the line.” She waved a hand in the air.

  “Great. Now that we have that settled, let’s talk about what we plan to do.” Jake said, bending down to pet Belladonna who mewed appreciatively.

  Fiona finished putting her tools away and flipped the sign on the shop door to “closed” while Morgan told Jake about their visit to Berta Crumm.

  Jake leaned against the counter in front of Morgan. Fiona could tell he was listening intently. Maybe he would be helpful. Morgan’s gut instincts about people were usually right, but Fiona couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about letting a stranger try to help with something so important.

  “Those sound like good leads to follow up on,” Jake said. “I can check with the hospital to see when Berta was treated for that sprain.”

  “I also think we need to go look at the place where Prudence was killed,” Morgan said.

  “I was thinking the very same thing.” Jake answered. “I’m sure there must be something there we missed. Overton didn’t give us a lot of time there.”

  “Why do you think Overton is so hot to arrest Morgan for this?” Fiona asked, walking over to join them at the counter.

  Jake shrugged. “I have no idea. Either he is just really lazy and going with the newt theory, or there is something else that we don’t know about.”

  “And what about the scarf?” Morgan asked, glancing at Fiona out of the corner of her eye. Fiona shook her head. She didn’t trust Jake enough to tell him they had it yet.

  “I don’t know about that, either. She was strangled with something and it wasn’t found at the crime scene. But did the killer take it, or did someone else get to the crime scene before the police? And why the anonymous tip about your garden? I have no idea.” Jake spread his hands.

  “So, when would be a good time to look over the crime scene?” Morgan asked.

  Jake squinted one eye. “I have Saturday morning off. Maybe we could meet there early? I want to minimize the chance of people seeing us. It won’t help our cause to have Overton know we went and looked at the scene together.”

  “Okay. We can open the shop a little late that day.” Morgan looked at Fiona who nodded. “But exactly where is it?”

  Jake pointed out the window toward the woods. “About a quarter mile that way. In between East Frazier Pasture and Sterns Road. Just meet me at the end of East Frazier’s and we can walk up.” He looked at his watch. “Say around six am?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Morgan said, looking at Fiona.

  “Fine by me.”

  “Okay, see you girls later then.” Jake smiled at Morgan and nodded at Fiona then headed out the door.

  Fiona stared after him. She couldn’t help but wonder what his motivation was for helping them. She still had concerns about trusting him, but she had to admit that it would be nice to have someone on the police force on “their side”. That is, if he actually really was on their side.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fiona stood on the porch looking toward Perkins Cove. Craning her neck, she leaned against the railing to get a better view. Her home was located on the point of land that shielded the cove from the Atlantic Ocean and, if she squinted, she could make out which boats were docked in the cove less than one quarter mile away.

  “I think I see Josiah Littlefield on his boat.” Fiona turned to Morgan who shooed Belladonna back inside as she stepped onto the porch.

  “Well, now would be a perfect time to talk to him … shall we?” Morgan spread her arm out indicating the steps that led down to the gravel driveway.

  Fiona skipped down the steps and the sisters walked the length of the driveway side by side. As they stepped onto the pavement, Fiona breathed in the smell of fried clams.

  “They’re making clam rolls this early?” She looked at her watch, it was barely 8:00 a.m. Walking by the row of quaint shops, she peaked in the Clam Shack and saw they were already hard at work.

  “I guess tourists like their clams for breakfast.” Morgan shrugged as they continued past the tiny shops. The cove consisted of a modest harbor for boats and a small loop of about fifteen shops. Most of the shops were housed in tiny buildings that were once fisherman’s shacks. It was a quaint old-Maine shopping and dining destination that tourists flocked to in the summer which made it rather crowded and impossible to find a parking spot.

  Walking past the bait wharf, Fiona took a deep breath and reveled in the smell of dead fish and diesel. Most people found the two smells offensive, but to Fiona, it evoked childhood memories of fishing trips and lazy days.

  She followed Morgan down the ramp to the dock. The tide was low. The smell of seaweed and clams hung in the air. Josiah Littlefield was busy cleaning off the deck of his lobster boat which was tied up to the dock.

  “Hey, Josiah. We saw you down here and wanted to come and give our condolences about your sister-in-law.” Fiona put her hand up to shade her eyes from the early morning sun as she looked up at Josiah on his boat.

  “Ayuh.” He kept cleaning the deck, not even looking up at them.

  “I hope Ed is doing okay?” Fiona ventured.

  Josiah turned and lifted a wooden lobster trap onto a stack of traps he had in the back of the boat. Fiona noticed the bulging muscles in his arms. He was strong for someone well into his seventies. Strong enough to strangle Prudence?

  He came over to the side of the boat next to the girls. Leaning against the railing, he lifted his cap up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

  “I was out lobsterin’ when it happened. Felt bad, I couldn’t be with Ed right away. He’s a might broken up about it. He dun
like a talkin’ much about it though. Seems to me he be much bettah off without her. No mattah who killed her.” He raised his eyebrows at Morgan.

  “Oh, really? Why would he be better off?” Morgan asked.

  Josiah shrugged. “She was a hard woman. Never lettin’ Ed do nuttin’ fun. She kept a tight fist on the money in that house.”

  Fiona nodded. “That can be hard on a man.”

  “Ayuh. But she musta been lettin’ up some. He tol’e me just the other day ‘bout how he was a gonna get hisself a boat.”

  “So, Prudence was loosening her grip on the money? Maybe she felt it was about time Ed had some fun in life.” Fiona said.

  Josiah squinted up into the sun. “Don’t know. All’s he said was he had some sorta plan.”

  He turned from the side of the boat, went over to the cabin and started the boat up.

  “Just one more thing, Josiah,” Fiona shouted over the roar of the engine.

  Josiah turned and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Was anyone with you when you were fishing that day?”

  Josiah narrowed his eyes. Straightening his shoulders he said, “I dun know what you’re gettin’ at Ms. Blackmoore, but my deck hand Gordy Tuttle was with me same as he is every day. Now if you’ll excuse me …”

  He untied the boat from the dock and motored off. Morgan turned to Fiona.

  “We’ll have to double check with Gordy, but if he was out fishing, he couldn’t have killed Prudence.”

  “True, but one thing he said really worries me. He said that Ed had a “plan”. I wonder if that plan included killing his wife.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I’ll drop you at the shop and then go talk to Ed by myself.” Fiona glanced toward the passenger seat in time to see Morgan’s jaw tighten.

  “I think I should talk to him too.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I mean, what if he’s buying into this crap about you being the killer? It might not be good for you to show up on his doorstep.”

  Morgan sighed. “I guess you’re right.” She slumped back into the seat, biting her thumb nail.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get whatever I can out of him,” Fiona said pulling up in front of Sticks and Stones.

  Morgan slid out of the passenger seat, then shut the door and turned to look back in the window. “Good luck. And be careful—Ed might be a killer.”

  “Thanks. I will.” Fiona put the truck in gear and headed east, toward Ed Littlefield’s house. She shuddered as she passed the wooded area where Prudence was strangled. Practically a stone’s throw from their shop, the heavily wooded patch lay in between Sticks and Stones and the Littlefield’s house which was on the street parallel to theirs.

  Turning down the road, she saw a black SUV heading her way. Eli Stark. He glared at her through his open window when their cars passed each other.

  Fiona felt her stomach tighten as she watched the back of his car in her rear view mirror. What was he doing here? Had he been to see Ed? And if so, why?

  She pulled up in front of a small cottage whose wooden shakes were weathered to a dull gray by the harsh environment of sun and salt air.

  Fiona got out of the truck, her heart beat picking up a few notches. Taking the homemade banana bread Celeste had given her, she made her way across the pine needle covered yard to the front door. Raising her fist, she knocked on the weathered wood.

  Inside, the creaking of floorboards announced someone coming to the door. She shuffled her feet while she waited for it to open.

  “Well, who is it now?” A harsh voice bellowed from inside the house.

  “It’s Fiona Blackmoore.”

  The door opened and Ed spoke to her from the other side of the screen door. “What do you want? Haven’t your people done enough?”

  Fiona straightened her back. “I just wanted to give my condolences and my sister, Celeste, baked this banana bread for you.”

  She held up the bread and Ed opened the door and grabbed it from her.

  Eyeing it suspiciously he said. “One sister is a killer and the other sends bread to the victim’s family?”

  “Come on, Ed. You’ve known Morgan since she was a little girl. You were in the shop just days ago buying something from her. Sure, her and Prudence had their differences, but you know she’s not a killer.”

  “I don’t know anything anymore. Overton seems sure she did it.” Fiona noticed his eyes were red. Had he been crying? Maybe he really was broken up about Prudence’s death.

  “Morgan’s just as sorry about it as anyone.”

  Ed snorted. “Bullshit! I don’t trust any of you Blackmoore girls, you need to get offa mah property!”

  Fiona felt her cheeks grow warm. “Now wait just a minute Ed. There’s no proof Morgan killed her. It could have been anyone … even you.”

  “You better git girl, afore I make ‘ya.”

  Fiona was too mad to heed his warning. “Where were you when Prudence was killed?” she blurted out.

  Instead of answering, Ed reached over and grabbed something on the other side of the door. Fiona heard a click. Her heart froze when she realized she was staring down the business end of a shotgun.

  She held up both hands, palms out. “Whoa there Ed …”

  Ed opened the screen door, advancing toward her. “I said git!”

  Fiona backed down the steps, her hands still out in front of her, heart racing like a thoroughbred in the Kentucky Derby.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Fiona cautiously backed toward the direction of her truck. She remembered how Berta had said Ed was “gentle as a lamb”. Gentle my ass. With a temper like that, she could picture him easily strangling Prudence in a fit of rage.

  Fiona whipped around, ready to break into a run but her escape was blocked when she smacked into a brick wall that she swore hadn’t been there before. At least it felt like a brick wall, but it wasn’t. It was a solid, un-moveable mass of muscle—Jake Cooper.

  Fiona’s heart jerked in her chest. Jake put his hands on her waist to steady her and her stomach flip-flopped. Their eyes met just as she put her hand on his chest to push him away and she felt like time stood still.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. Fiona saw something flicker in his gray eyes. Amusement? Annoyance? Or was it something else?

  “I … I was just giving my condolences to Ed.” Fiona sputtered. Why did she feel like a child who got caught doing something wrong?

  Jake bent down, lowering his voice so that Ed couldn’t hear him.

  “Listen, Red. I know you’re trying to get information from Ed, but I think it’s best if you leave the interrogation to the experts.”

  Fiona’s body tensed. There was nothing she hated more than someone trying to tell her what to do. She squirmed out of Jake’s grip and took a step back.

  “I don’t need you telling me what to do. I have every right to extend my condolences to my neighbor.” She stomped off toward her truck, ignoring Ed who was yelling at her not to come back. When she got to the truck, she turned to see Jake staring after her.

  “And don’t call me Red.” She yelled over her shoulder as she jumped into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine and sped off.

  ***

  Jake stared after Fiona with an amused smile. She certainly was feisty. He liked that. His arms still tingled from when he had held her and looked down into her blue eyes. He wondered how those eyes could look both tough and vulnerable at the same time.

  “What do you want?”

  A voice shook him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Ed pointing the shotgun in his direction.

  Jake felt a jolt of adrenalin rush through his veins. He held up his hands.

  “Now Ed, put that thing down. I’m here on police business.”

  Ed narrowed his eyes at him, then, noticing Jake was in uniform, lowered the gun to his side.

  “I brought Prudence’s effects for you,” Jake said solemnly.

  “Oh.” Ed lowered his he
ad and Jake got a small box out of his car.

  “Can we go inside?”

  Ed nodded, leading the way up the steps and into the house.

  The living room was simple, but clean. A plaid sofa sat against one wall, a lazy boy on the other. A small T.V. flickered images at the far end of the room. The coffee table held a cardboard pizza box and a bag of chips.

  Ed motioned for Jake to sit on the couch and he did, gently placing the box on an empty spot on the coffee table in front of him.

  Jake’s stomach tightened as he took out his notebook. He always hated this part. You never knew how people were going to react.

  Jake thought about all the people he’d questioned as a detective in Boston. When he took this job, he figured those days were over, but the small town didn’t have a proper detective so the job fell to him, even if he didn’t have the title.

  “I have a few questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

  Ed sat in the chair on the other side of the room, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and surprised Jake with a question of his own.

  “That Morgan Blackmoore, did she really kill my Prudy?” Ed wrinkled his brow at Jake.

  Jake shrugged. “We don’t know. Do you think she did it? What would her motive be?”

  Ed looked down at the floor. “Well, I don’ rightly know. I’ve known those Blackmoore girls since they were knee high. Morgan’s always been sweet as pie. That redhead though, Fiona … she’s a might bit meddlesome.” He glanced back at the front door and Jake couldn’t help but smile at his description of Fiona.

  “I’m afraid I might’a lost my tempah a bit with her, but she was askin’ some personal questions.” Ed turned back to Jake. “Prudy had her differences with the Blackmoore family, but that’s been goin’ on since their grandma was around.”

  “There’s no hard evidence that connects Morgan to the murder,” Jake said.

  “But that newt? Everyone said they argued in the cafe and Morgan said she’da turn Prudy into a newt.” Ed rubbed his stubble covered chin and narrowed his eyes at Jake. “D’ya think that Morgan really is a witch?”