Two officers were bent over the shipping table; Sergeant Meese was on his radio, but he shut it off when he saw Liv and Miriam.
“Uh, Ms. Krause. Do you recognize this?” He motioned her in, and the two men stepped aside. Lying on the table was a box cutter. It looked like all the other box cutters Liv had ever seen. But he wouldn’t be asking unless there was something different about this one.
“It’s a box cutter,” Miriam said. “I have a whole drawer full of them, which I showed you when you came looking for them.”
“Yes ma’am. But do you recognize this particular box cutter?”
“Oh for heavens’ sake.” Miriam reached for it.
Meese stepped in front of her. “Please don’t touch anything.”
A siren sounded in the distance, getting closer.
Miriam stared at the policeman, then turned to Liv.
The siren rose in pitch and volume, then warbled to silence.
“That sounded like it was right out front,” Miriam said and ran from the room, followed by Liv and Officer Meese.
The front door opened and two more policemen stepped into the store. They strode straight toward the back.
“Didn’t I tell you to come around back?” Meese asked.
“Sorry, but there was a truck in the way. Where’s the perp?”
Meese groaned. “Man, this is so uncool.” He turned on his heel and strode back to the stockroom, the two officers following behind.
Miriam turned to Liv, her eyes filled with confusion and dawning fear. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.” But it didn’t look good.
“Mrs. Krause?” Meese blushed, cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this in as evidence. And, um, ask you if you’d mind coming down to the station to talk to the sheriff?”
Miriam sucked in air. “Me? But why?”
The two newcomers stepped forward to flank the fabric store proprietress.
“These two officers will give you a ride.”
One of the two officers in question pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Miriam squeaked and began to shake her head.
Meese groaned. “Jeez, put those away. She’s just a person of interest.”
Miriam shot an anguished look at Liv.
“I’ll call Bill Gunnison and tell him what’s happened and to keep Silas Lark there,” Liv told her.
“Silas Lark? Do I need a lawyer?”
“Don’t worry,” Liv said. “It’s a party down there this morning. He’s probably already at the station representing Penny Newland and Jason Tully.”
They led Miriam toward the front of the store.
Liv gave Meese her hardest are-you-kidding-me look and speed-dialed the police station. While she waited for someone to answer, she followed the officers and Miriam to the front, where Miriam had stopped to give instructions to her assistant, who had just come in.
Bill was just as perturbed as Liv when she told him what had happened and promised to keep Lark there until Miriam arrived.
“Damned fool boys. Hauling her off like a common criminal.” He rang off.
Liv went outside where Miriam was climbing into the backseat of the squad car. A crowd was forming on the sidewalk. Some were wearing outerwear, but just as many were in shirtsleeves, the siren having drawn them from work and coffee breaks. Liv saw BeBe and Dolly among the onlookers.
Liv went to meet them.
“What on earth is going on?” Dolly asked, vigorously chafing her bare arms below her puffed gingham sleeves.
Liv pulled them away from the crowd. “They found a suspicious-looking box cutter in Miriam’s store.”
“What’s suspicious about a box cutter?” Dolly said. “We all have them. I have a drawer full at the bakery. I guess I’m lucky they didn’t arrest me.”
“I don’t get it,” BeBe said. “They’ve searched every store on the block. I figure they’ve probably found several dozen by now.”
“I bet it’s a false alarm,” BeBe said. “If I were going to hide a box cutter, I’d dismantle it and spread the pieces to kingdom come.”
“Well, don’t say that out loud,” Liv told her.
“It’s just stupid,” Dolly added. “First they accused Penny Newland, then Hank, now Miriam Krause. What next? Are they going to arrest everyone in the whole town until they run out of people? A silly waste of time. The killer’s probably in another state by now.”
Liv certainly hoped so, but she didn’t place any great credence on it being true. But that wasn’t what really worried her. Suspicions and concern were already making the rounds of the townsfolk, and now with this very public action by the police, the rumors would churn up to a new level.
She could imagine tourists leaving in droves. More stores closing instead of opening. She had no doubt that when the murder became public knowledge—public outside of Celebration Bay—people would not let their children visit Santa—a possible homicide suspect—much less sit on Santa’s lap.
They had to stop this now, before it got any worse.
“I’ll walk you guys back and pick up some fortifications for the afternoon,” Liv said and pulled out her phone. She hit speed dial for the Events Office as they picked their way down the slushy sidewalk.
Ted answered.
“Hi, it’s Liv. I’m on my way to the Buttercup. Did you order lunch? No? Well don’t. I need you to do two things. Pack up my laptop and pick me up at the Buttercup. Yes, in your car. I’ll tell you when you get here.”
Liv hung up as they reached the pedestrian passage, and she paused to look down the narrow walkway. Reimagined the day she and Ted saw Phil Cosgrove standing in the alley, talking on his cell, holding a cigarette while he read something from a little black book into his phone. Reporting his findings to the person who hired him?
And what had happened to his notebook? Did Bill have it? Did Bill even know about it?
“What’s up?” BeBe asked, narrowing her eyes at Liv.
“Nothing. I just can’t get a handle on this.”
“Maybe because you’re an event planner and not a detective?”
“Could be. But no one else seems to be having any better luck.”
“True,” BeBe said.
As they passed the Bookworm, Quincy Hinks came out. “What the heck is going on now? I just heard they took Miriam Krause away in a police car.”
“They think they found the murder weapon,” Dolly said.
“At Miriam’s? Absurd. They’re never going to solve this case if they keep arresting the wrong people.” He pointed to his temple. “Little gray cells. That’s what we need.”
“Bill Gunnison is doing the best he can,” Dolly said.
“I’m not saying he isn’t. It’s just with the new surge of tourists, for which we’re grateful, I might add, we need better security.”
“I’m working on it,” Liv said.
“We can’t expect Liv to do it all,” BeBe said.
“Not saying she should. Just that we need the manpower to solve this before they send in the state again.”
“Heaven forbid,” Dolly said, holding herself tighter.
Liv knew he was right. What they needed was more investigators with experience—but not ones from the state. And she intended to enlist one in the next few minutes.
Chapter Nineteen
When Ted pulled his SUV up to the curb, Liv was holding a large paper bag and a tray of three steaming paper cups.
Ted reached over and took them from her as she climbed inside.
“Is my favorite dawg taking up coffee drinking?”
“No. I brought one for our host.”
“And who would that be?”
“The editor of the Clarion.”
“Ooh-kay. Does he know we’re coming?”
“No. I want to catch him unawares.”
Ted handed the tray back and pulled away from the curb.
“Where’s Whiskey?”
“Sleeping it off in the off
ice.”
“Oh Lord, what did you feed him?”
“Nothing, Scout’s honor, but we had a busy morning.” Ted chuckled.
“Ted?”
“He thought the reindeer needed some exercise.”
Liv closed her eyes. “And?”
“And nothing. A good time was had by all.”
“And is Dexter Kent still talking to me?”
“Dexter laughed himself silly.”
Ted found a place to park across the street from the Clarion office. Liv jumped out and walked ahead while Ted carried the provisions.
She knocked on the door. As expected, there was no answer. There was also no sign that read Gone Fishing. She knocked again, then tried the knob. The door opened. She stepped inside and motioned Ted in.
“You could get shot walking into people’s houses unannounced,” Ted said.
Liv stopped. “Chaz owns a gun?”
“I don’t know, but lots of people around here do. Chaz!” he called. “You’ve got visitors.”
“Tell her to go away,” came a muffled voice from the back room.
Ted grinned, Liv didn’t.
“Chaz, dammit, we need your help.”
A groan.
“We’re coming in.”
Another groan.
Liv strode through the house, turning on lights as she went.
Chaz was sitting up on the sagging couch that took up a good portion of his “office.”
He ran both hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. “It must have been something I did in a former life. Do I smell coffee?”
Liv took a cup from Ted and stuck it under his nose.
He took it, flipped up the top, and took a cautious sip. “Yummm, thanks. It was nice of you to drop by. See you in the spring maybe.”
Liv kicked his shoe, which he hadn’t bothered to take off before going to sleep. “We need your help.”
Chaz finally raised his head to squint at her. “Maybe it was something I did in this life. Or both.”
“Oh stop it. They just found the murder weapon in A Stitch in Time and took Miriam Krause to the police station to be questioned.”
His eyes finally opened all the way. “Miriam Krause? Are you serious?”
Liv nodded.
“Numbskulls. Bill must’ve been dipping into the eggnog.”
“It was Officer Meese. They’ve been searching each store for box cutters.”
Chaz sputtered into his coffee. “Bet they only found, what, five hundred?”
“Well, they found one that looked suspicious.”
Chaz held the cardboard cup in both hands and stared at the lid as if it were an ancient rune.
Liv held her breath, waiting to see if he’d respond with a quip or actually have something intelligent to say.
“You should really let Bill handle this.”
Nothing she didn’t already know. “I will. But he’s taking too long and it’s going to wreck Christmas.”
Chaz nodded to himself. “You know, if you ever decide to give up event planning, you could work for the Hallmark Channel. The Year They Wrecked Christmas. A real tearjerker.”
“Ugh. You’re the most—I’m not giving up until you say something useful.” She turned to the desk, which she barely recognized under the stacks of precariously balanced books and papers.
Chaz sank back on the couch and yawned.
In one motion, Liv swept her arm across the desk. Papers slid to the floor; a few sailed across the room to scatter at Chaz’s feet. She was aware of Ted’s mouth opening in surprise, and Chaz rearing up off the couch.
“Hey, what the f—”
She looked at him and smiled sweetly. “I needed a place to put my laptop.”
“You made a huge mess.”
“It was already a huge mess. Now, are you going to help, or am I going to have to clean off the rest of the desk.”
“One day . . .”
“Promises, promises,” Liv shot back, using one of Chaz’s default answers, while she searched for a wall outlet. She found it by following the lamp cord through several stacks of newspapers and a tackle box.
When she stood up again, Ted had placed her cup by her computer and was holding the open bakery bag. Chaz reached inside, brought out a cookie shaped like a star. He held it up and batted seriously long eyelashes at Liv. “I don’t know whether to put it on my chest or on the sidewalk outside.” He bit off two of the points.
Liv looked to heaven, rolled an ancient desk chair over, sat down, and began shrugging out of her coat. Ted offered her the bakery bag, fighting a grin. She glared at him and took a cookie.
Chaz wandered over to stand behind her and look over her shoulder as she scrolled to the bottom of her spreadsheet. She typed in the date in the Date column, moved to the Event column and typed, “Murd. Weap. Fnd. ASIT.” And underneath, “M. KR > Pol ST.” Next to it, under “People,” she typed in all the people pertinent to the event. She moved the cursor to the To Do column. She’d have to have Ted call Silas Lark and find out what he could from the lawyer. She moved the cursor to the Outcome column, which was fairly empty.
“What’s that?” Chaz asked, leaning so close she could smell cookies and coffee on his breath.
“It’s Miss Ida and Miss Edna’s lesson plan for solving a murder.”
“They’re not involved in this nonsense, are they? Just shoot me now.”
“No. But they show more interest in helping than certain people who are in a position to expedite the investigation but refuse to cooperate.”
“The leg bone connected to the—”
Liv clenched both fists, beginning to wonder if she’d come on a fool’s errand. He just refused to do anything useful. But he could—if only he would. When she’d first met him and found out he’d been an investigative reporter—and a good one—she’d asked for his help. He’d blown her off and had continued to do so ever since.
He was stubborn, but so was she. And she usually got her way. Chaz Bristow didn’t hold a candle to some of the executive hosts or the mothers of the bride she’d had to deal with.
“So,” she said, “this is what we have so far.”
She heard his breath quicken as he read. Finally he reached past her and scrolled to the top of the document. She had a brief moment of panic that he was going to delete it, but he merely scrolled through the timeline: Finding the body; Hank’s bloodied Santa suit; Grace and Clarence’s argument in the alley.
Then he reached over Liv and he began to type. When he moved away, she saw that under “Who Hired the PI?” he’d written “Clarence Thornsby.”
“Are you sure or just speculating?” Liv asked.
Ted moved to her other side and peered at the computer screen. He let out a low whistle.
Liv gave the sleepy editor a speculative look. Was he jerking them around or telling them the truth? “And you know this how?”
Chaz sighed dramatically. “If you must know, I was up in Plattsburgh the other day picking up supplies. And I happened to be in the neighborhood of Phil Cosgrove’s office, such that it is.”
“I thought he was a one-man show?”
“He is—was. But his ‘secretary’”—Chaz made air quotes with his long fingers—“was there packing up his files. She let me have a peek.”
“Isn’t that confidential?”
“It is, but I guess she figured since he wouldn’t be working any more cases, it didn’t really matter. Besides, I have a certain je ne sais quoi.”
“Right,” said Liv. “How much did you pay her?”
Chaz sighed. “Fifty bucks.”
“Why?” Liv didn’t think he had two pennies to rub together. Why had he paid that much for a little information he didn’t care about?
“Why what?”
“Oh never mind. Did you learn anything else?”
“Only that Clarence suspected Grace of having an affair and wanted proof.”
“Do you think Clarence was looking for excus
es to divorce her? Why not just declare irreconcilable differences and call it a day?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want a divorce,” Ted said.
“Wants to have her cake and eat it, too,” Chaz said as he reached into the bag for another cookie.
“Hmm,” Ted said, frowning at the screen. “So Clarence sets her up in business close to where her lover works and hires Cosgrove to play Santa. But surely the lover didn’t come into the store. Why not just have him follow her after work?”
“Good question,” said Chaz.
“If the gossip is true that he’s in financial trouble, maybe he was afraid Grace was going to shortchange him,” Liv said.
Ted rubbed his chin. “Keeping the profits for herself? Possible. In which case, that scene about Penny and Jimmy stealing money could have been a ruse to divert suspicion. Interesting.”
“It makes more sense than Cosgrove catching Penny stealing from the till and her killing him.” Liv shuddered. “That just seems far-fetched.”
“That’s the problem with murder. It’s often a crime of passion; people who are normally perfectly docile will suddenly snap, go berserk, and kill.” Chaz glanced down at Liv. “Something you might want to remember.”
“Me?”
“People also get killed for sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”
“But I don’t.”
“You don’t mean to, maybe, but there’s no guarantee that the killer knows the difference.”
“Who do you think it is?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did you tell Bill what you found out?”
“Of course. Did you?”
“Of course.”
They both turned to Ted.
“What?”
“We’ve both told Bill what we know,” Liv said. “What has Bill told you?”
Ted tried to look innocent, but he enjoyed knowing secrets as much as anyone. “You know Bill can’t discuss the case.”
“But that doesn’t mean he didn’t find a way to clue you in,” Liv said.
Chaz laughed. “She’s got you there.”
“Well, not much. Actually, they don’t seem to have a real lead, if I’m reading between the lines correctly. They sent Hank’s Santa suit off for analysis where I’m sure it sits languishing in an evidence bag on a back shelf. The murder of an ersatz Santa in a small town is not a high priority.” Ted paused. “Let’s see. They’ve ruled out Grace for the moment, since the boyfriend says she was with him.”
Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery) Page 21
