Murder at the Grill (Cold Creek Book 3)

by Christa Nardi

  The man got into a black sedan and drove off. My efforts to read the license plate were hindered by a mud cover and the fast increasing distance.

  Minutes later, Officer Matthews arrived and jumped out of his police cruiser.

  “What’s the problem Dr. Hendley? Where’s the mugger?”

  I explained what happened and texted him the photo I’d taken. It wasn’t the best picture I’d ever taken, but clear enough. I looked at the picture as Officer Matthews did. I didn’t recognize him.

  Around mid-twenties was my guess. There was nothing remarkable about him. He was well-tanned, not unusual for July. Slight of build, in a t-shirt and jeans, he could fit in anywhere. Although Brett told all of us weight had nothing to do with it, I was sure his size contributed to my success in flipping him. That and the element of surprise.

  In the meantime, people exited the Grill to satisfy their curiosity about the police car with lights flashing. Matthews and I both asked if anyone recognized the man in the photo. I heard Matthews tell someone the man may have wandered off some where, might need help. That seemed like a good story so I repeated it as well. Of the people we asked, no one recognized him.

  Next stop was inside the restaurant. I let Officer Matthews handle that and I watched for reactions. There were no customers in the restaurant. Dawn was in the front at the hostess station. Both Kay and Rebekah had disappeared. As Officer Matthews approached Dawn, she huffed in annoyance. He blocked her path to get her attention.

  “Ma’am, could you look at this photo please. This man may be confused and wandering around. We want to make sure he is okay. Do you know who he is?”

  She took a cursory glance and snickered, “Now why would I have anything to do with the likes of him?” She turned and walked away.

  I was puzzled by her answer. The man dressed like anyone else in jeans and t-shirt. I hadn’t stopped to check the brands he was wearing, but I didn’t understand what she meant.

  Officer Matthews opened his mouth to make a retort, but closed it again and shook his head. He looked around the Grill and then at me. I nudged Officer Matthews as Wayne walked in. As the local dentist, if the man was local, Wayne would know him and his teeth. Besides, Wayne was heading in my direction and the photo might provide a diversion from his continued advances.

  “Dr. Cantor? Could you help us out please?” As Wayne approached, Officer Matthews repeated the story and showed him the photo.

  “Oh, he looks familiar, but I don’t recognize him. If you had a picture of his teeth, I could probably give you his name. He may have come in once or twice in the past. There’s something about him that’s jogging my memory. Sorry, I can’t be of more help.” Wayne looked off, deep in thought for a minute or two.

  With a shrug, he shifted his attention to me and took a step in my direction. “Sheridan, how are you doing? At least you’re not involved in this murder. Would you like to join me?”

  “Sorry, Wayne. I’m with Officer Matthews here.” I stepped back and turned my attention to Officer Matthews.

  Wayne walked away as Matthews and I moved back outside to the parking lot. I went over what happened again and acknowledged his request to stop by the police station to sign a report. His conclusion was a thwarted mugging. “Dr. Hendley, you need to hold your purse closer to your body.” With that Officer Matthews closed his pad, got in his car, and drove away.

  Somehow, the man who grabbed me didn’t strike me as a mugger. He could have jerked my purse away from me with ease or demanded my purse or keys. I wasn’t buying that explanation.

  CHAPTER 9

  The campus was quiet and I looked forward to catching up on some reading. My email showed the next and hopefully last Chancellor candidate information. I groaned. Being on the search committee was not my favorite activity.

  “Are you alright, Sheridan? You groaned. Are you in pain? Can I help?” Max rattled, his hands waving.

  I smiled and shook my head. “Nothing serious, Max. Really nothing you can do. Thanks for asking. Just this search committee business.”

  “Well, I won’t do those committees. Total waste of my time. I need to be doing my research. That’s what’s important. Research is what will bring money into the college.” He nodded his head as he said this.

  I nodded back and he continued, “You don’t understand how much work goes into doing research, Sheridan. It takes a lot of time and work. Those people over in administration don’t understand. Can you try to get the new Chancellor to tell them to leave researchers alone and let them do their research already? That’s how they’ll get money for the College.” His head continued to bob, his dark hair bouncing and sticking out.

  “I don’t think the Chancellor has much to do with the actual running of the College. But I can be sure to mention research in the interview.”

  “Sheridan, you have to make sure this new Chancellor understands how important research is to the future of the college. The prestige of Cold Creek College will improve if graduate education is added and faculty are required to do more research. Other than me, only Jack does anything that resembles science.” Jack and Max competed for any recognition as researchers in the department. He continued in his rant before I put my hand up.

  “Max, I appreciate that you love research, but that’s not the focus of this search. The Chancellor needs to have a business background and, well, public relations sense.”

  “Do any of these candidates do research? Have they published anything? Ever gotten a grant? That’s what Cold Creek College needs – someone who has a research vision. And you need to get this murder solved quickly. Where’s your detective? How can we get someone to come here with a murderer on loose? It’s been good talking to you, Sheridan. I have to get back and check on Wesley and the lab.” With that, he was gone.

  I shook my head at his back. Conversations with Max often ended mid-thought. Cold Creek College had started out a private boarding school, a place for the wealthy to send their children. It then graduated into a two-year college before becoming a four-year college. Students still came predominantly from money. Regardless of background, students acquired the basic education to be admitted to graduate programs in prestigious universities consistent with the vision of the administration.

  There were rumors, mostly wishful thinking on Max’s part, about adding some graduate level programs. So far there were no specific plans. I’d be quite happy with a Chancellor who had good sense and could effectively do the job, whatever that meant, without interfering with teaching and mentoring of students.

  I read through the candidate materials for Ryder Colbert. A business background. Much as Max might have a point, it didn’t seem to matter whether the Chancellor had an education background, never mind a research interest. This last candidate interview wouldn’t be until early the next week so I closed the file.

  My phone rang and I picked it up hoping it was Brett. It said “Private” and I ignored it. I operated on the principle that if the call was important the person would leave a voice mail. There was no voicemail for the call earlier. Checking the phone after a few minutes, no voicemail this time either. Probably someone selling something or a charity wanting a donation.

  Marty stopped by my office as I was ready to leave. He had spoken to Chief Hirsch about the note. I filled him in on the attempted mugging. He looked worried, his brows knit. I went on to give him the highlights from my meeting with Rebekah. As we talked, I started thinking out loud.

  “Do you have any idea where Jebediah’s been the last 15 years? If we could figure that out and what he’s been up to, why he left there, maybe we can figure out why he left Cold Creek and maybe why he came back. We might determine what he hoped to gain from returning.”

  Marty shook his head. “Zoe keeps saying she never knew and didn’t want to have anything to do with him. That’s not completely true. Somehow she got his signature on divorce papers. However, you’ve got a good point. The signature was notarized, so that might give me another place
to start. I’ve put someone on checking his tax returns already, but bureaucracy is slow. Unfortunately for Zoe, he has no criminal record so he’s looking like the blameless victim. That’s how Bergner will play him, too.”

  “Did he pay child support all these years? Alimony?”

  “According to the divorce agreement, she gave up all claim to child-support or alimony regardless of what his income might become. In return, he transferred his stock in the Grill to her. He gave up parental rights with regard to Rebekah and agreed to never contact her.” His jaw dropped and he shrugged communicating his bewilderment.

  “I’ve never seen a divorce agreement like this one. It’s definitely not standard and not clearly favoring one or the other. His being in town and at the Grill could be construed as a violation, but not a reason to kill him.”

  “Sounds more like dissolving a business than a marriage to me, Marty. Who’s taking care of the funeral?” I realized no one had mentioned it and I wasn’t sure where it would be, who would attend, or who would pay for it.

  “He has a brother still living in Lowell – that’s where he was from originally. Once released, the body was sent there for a private service. The details were not shared. Zoe didn’t ask and I didn’t bring it up. I’m not sure if anyone else in the Baxter family asked or was informed.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “For sure.” His brows lowered and his mouth crinkled reflecting his frustration. “I’ve tried to explain to Zoe that I need to know as much as possible so as not be taken by surprise when we go to trial. She tells me there’s nothing to surprise me.”

  My phone rang and interrupted my thoughts. I glanced at who was calling and let it go. “I can leave if you need to talk to someone, Sheridan. I came to campus to meet Kim, but she wasn’t ready to go yet.”

  “Oh, no. The screen showed ‘Private’ so it’s probably some fundraising company, though I have to say they are persistent. I think I’m about done here anyway. I’ll walk with you to Kim’s office.”

  I picked up my bag with the articles I wanted to read, and locked my door, including the deadbolt put in after someone trashed my office last spring. Although I was sure that wouldn’t happen again, it was there so I used it.

  Marty teased me about the lock and we continued to talk as we walked. Kim jumped up when we got there, grabbed her stuff, and we all left together. They were going out for dinner and a movie. Kim invited me to join them, but I declined. I didn’t want to be the extra. Marty stopped at the restroom before we left the building.

  Once he was out of earshot, Kim started in. “So, what did you find out? Anything I can do to help?” She sizzled with energy and curiosity.

  I calmed her down and told her she’d have to ask Marty. He joined us and we walked to our cars. Then we went our separate ways. I kept wondering why Brett hadn’t called. A little later it occurred to me that maybe the “Private” caller was him, calling from a different number. But surely, he would leave a message. I shrugged it off.

  I planned out my evening, starting with a short run with Charlie in the park as I drove home. After eating, the plan was to clean the house and bake some cookies. I pulled in the driveway and forgot all my plans when I spotted Brett’s car. Not like him to show up without calling first, but I wasn’t going to argue.

  I walked in the house and Brett was standing at the stove with the wok out. Cut veggies were on the counter and something smelled good. He turned and smiled and my heart melted. All 6 feet of him looked inviting and he cooked besides!

  “I was in the neighborhood and stopped to get dinner.” His hazel eyes twinkled and the dimple in his cheek came through. Given his office is in Appomattox, about an hour away, his being in the neighborhood had to be intentional. I smiled and kissed him.

  “How’d you arrange that? Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Sticky case in North Shore. I have to be there early tomorrow so I decided to go there from here. Besides, I missed you.” He kissed me and returned to his cooking. “Beef strips and veggies over rice sound good?”

  I nodded and started to set the table. We worked together to prepare the meal and ate dinner. I groused about work, the search, and of course about Priscilla and Max. I avoided telling him about the mugging and asked about his parents and brothers and Madison. That worked for a while, but not long enough.

  “So what’s new with Zoe’s case?”

  “She’s not sharing a lot of information with Marty. He’s afraid one of the family secrets might be important though. Nobody seems to know where Jebediah’s been for the past 15 years. If Zoe has any idea, she’s sure not telling.”

  “And your part? What kind of trouble did you stir up?” His smirk made me wonder if he already knew. Either that or it was a good ploy.

  “Well, Priscilla’s already told me I should mind my own business, like the murder is obviously my fault.”

  He smiled at that and I continued, “Someone left a note to that effect – to mind my own business. Hirsch has it now.”

  I paused and took deep breath. I tried to be nonchalant and upbeat as I described my morning. “This morning I had breakfast with Rebekah. When I left the Grill, I got to try out that self-defense stuff!”

  His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Sher?”

  I told him the story and how Officer Matthews decided it was a mugger. He shook his head and asked to see the picture. I handed him the phone as it rang.

  Looking at my phone, he scowled and said, “Private?”

  “That’s about the fourth time today. I’m sure it’s one of those fundraiser things. Ignore it.”

  “Have you answered any of these calls?”

  “No, and no one has left a message. That’s why I figure it’s a computerized message or fundraiser. It happens all the time around elections.”

  “To be sure that’s what it is, next time, you need to answer it. You might want to hit record when you answer in case it’s not something that benign.” He shook his head and smiled as he asked, “How do you get yourself involved in these situations?” His tone conveyed his concern, masked by the smile.

  I chuckled back, hoping to make light of the situation, but I didn’t have an answer for him. We continued to discuss the case, dinner with Kim and Marty, and finally his birthday party. I showed him the invitation I’d come up with and he was good with it. Patrick still hadn’t contacted us with his preferred date, and it was getting late. Brett gave him a call to finalize the date, and we sent out the invitations.

  After a walk with Charlie, we settled down. Brett pulled out some paperwork and I turned on the computer. On a whim, I googled Jebediah’s name and Lowell, Virginia. What came up was a death notice and the name of the funeral home in Lowell that had submitted it. It simply stated his name, birthdate and death date. I showed it to Brett and we both looked for an obituary. There was none and no indication of surviving relatives.

  I typed in his name again, this time without Lowell, and clicked on images. Three images, all of the same man came up. A stocky man, blonde with steel gray eyes. He wasn’t bad looking. The jut of his jaw and the cock of his head gave him an arrogant air.

  CHAPTER 10

  The next day, I attacked my email and the stack of articles to be read first thing. Routine kept me grounded. Still, I was glad for the interruption when Kim came into my office.

  She shook her head as she settled into the nearest chair and complained about her summer class. She was drained and lacked her usual enthusiasm. Even her yellow sundress looked wilted. Teaching more than double the content each day can have that effect.

  “The problem with students who come from money is that they think their parents can buy them anything, including grades. A little hard work is beyond their comprehension,” Kim huffed.

  I nodded, thinking of the problems one such student, Brandon Whitfield, had gotten himself into with scams and drugs and too much easy money. Unfortunately, it only took one person to start the doub
ts or concerns about other students in the same social circle or, in this case, the country club set. We both knew other students who worked hard despite all the amenities wealth provided.

  Kim continued, “Max complains about the scholarship students, but there are a few in this class who are doing quite well. I think all three live in Elmwood where Zoe lives.”

  Elmwood was a subdivision of Cold Creek with more modest and older homes. Kim and I lived in the Shenandoah subdivision with a combination of upscale condominiums, medium-sized houses like mine, and newer, somewhat larger homes. Castle Hills and Rolling Hills, on the other hand, were the more impressive, coveted, and beautiful homes of the wealthier country club crowd.

  At the mention of Zoe, without thinking I blurted out, “Has Marty told you anything more about the murder?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how awkward the situation was. I wasn’t going to tell her anything, yet there I was asking her if she knew anything.

  “Not really. As you probably heard on the news, Zoe was indicted and Bergner said it’s an open and shut case. Other than that Marty’s pretty close mouthed about it with me. Only talks about what’s already public knowledge – like you said the other day. I can tell you he’s frustrated with her stonewalling him about Jebediah and the divorce. I thought my divorce was bad, but at least I admit the jerk’s infidelity.”

  “For some people, divorce isn’t an acceptable option. But in a murder case…” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Marty mentioned your ‘mugging’ and was concerned how Brett might react.” She smiled as she teased, “I bet Brett wasn’t too happy with that. Did he flip out? We still on for dinner?”

  “He tensed up for sure but didn’t say a word. Maybe he’ll wait for dinner to bring it up and try an end run around me through Marty. I sure hope not though.” I was about to continue when my phone rang. The caller name “Private” again. I answered and pressed the record button.