Two Scoops of Murder (Felicity Bell Book 2)

by Nic Saint

  Usually he didn’t even accept a job unless he was paid in advance, but this time the reward had been so handsome and the job so simple that he hadn’t thought twice. And then there was that loan shark he owed money to. Atlantic City didn’t become him.

  “Let’s just get it over with,” he grumbled.

  “You’re right,” Malcolm said with a sigh. “But she’s such a nice old lady, and classy too. Remember how she gave me those scones for breakfast? After I complained that I couldn’t digest the muffins? She had them ordered especially for me.”

  “I know. I love those scones.” It was about the only thing he did love about this town. That and pretty much everything else at that bakery. After their first meeting with the client they’d dropped by Bell’s Bakery & Tea Room, and were surprised to bump into their target. Mary Long had even recognized them and shown them where they could find ‘the best scones on Long Island.’ She was right. They were the best.

  For a moment he’d felt sorry about having to kill both her and her husband, but now that the husband was gone, he no longer had that compunction. After all, the lady was grieving. What better way to alleviate her pain than to send her to the same place her husband was at? If you looked at it that way it was an act of mercy, really.

  “How do you want to do her, Malcolm?”

  “I do her? I thought you would do her?”

  “I did the husband, now it’s your turn.”

  “Oh, but I don’t want to kill her,” Malcolm lamented. “Those scones!”

  “Those scones will be there with or without her.”

  “That’s not what I mean. She’s so nice.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re all nice. And whether I kill her or you kill her, she still gotta be killed, see?”

  Malcolm thought about this. “You’re right,” he finally said. His shoulders slumped. “I’ll do her tonight, how’s that sound?”

  “Sounds dandy. And then I’ll kill the next one.”

  “Next one? You think there’ll be others?”

  Nathan spread his arms. “Who knows? Didn’t you see that gleam in the client’s eye? I’m telling you, once they get a taste for blood there’s no telling when they’ll stop. So. How do you want to do her?”

  Malcolm pondered this. “What about a knife?”

  “Messy. Very messy.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Poison? I could slip her a poisoned scone.”

  “Come on, Malcolm. Why get all fancy all of a sudden?”

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ll just shoot her.”

  “No! No shooting indoors. You never know who might hear.”

  Malcolm scrunched up his average face. “What about bashing her brains in?”

  Nathan nodded appreciatively. “Now you’re talking. Go on.”

  Malcolm gave him a blank look. “Well, that’s it. I just bash her brains in and that’ll be the end of it—her.”

  “I like it. It’s simple, it’s quick, it’s fairly clean.”

  “And I’ll make sure she doesn’t suffer,” added Malcolm. “We owe her that—for the scones.”

  “Sure, sure,” said Nathan easily.

  He looked up when a lanky policeman entered. Though usually he felt uneasy when meeting an officer of the law, something about this one told him they had nothing to worry about. They’d even met him at Bell’s, and had exchanged a few words with the man.

  He’d deemed him absolutely harmless and hadn’t detected even a glint of intelligence behind those cow-like eyes. At least that part was all good. Happy Bays might be as loathsome a small town as small towns go, but as far as cops and scones were concerned, they were on velvet.

  Chapter 34

  Felicity squeezed one eye shut, stuck out her tongue, and fired off another round. To her own surprise she was actually beginning to like this shooting thing. Of course all of her shots had been wide of the mark. In fact she’d only grazed the target once or twice.

  She took off her earmuffs for a moment and was surprised by the noise of the place. “I think I like it!” she yelled.

  Alice frowned. “What?!” she hollered back over the din.

  “I like it!”

  Alice grinned. “Thought you would!”

  They put their earmuffs back on and Felicity resumed target practice. This time she was extra careful to make every shot count, and she had the distinct impression she was improving. Of course she couldn’t be sure until Alice punched the button and the card was reeled in by the electronic target carrier. When it finally did, she squealed with delight. One shot had found its mark. It had penetrated the target’s left ear. At least if a perp now walked up to her with a gun she could kill his ear. That would show him.

  “Good job!” Alice shouted, giving her a thumbs up.

  “I think I’m starting to get the hang of this!”

  Alice nodded and handed her the card. “Souvenir!”

  She beamed. “This is so going to be framed!” She handled the gun reverently. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

  She watched with surprise when three familiar figures approached. They were Bettina, Marjorie, and Mabel, and they didn’t look happy.

  Alice pointed to the adjoining bar, and the quintet proceeded thither, Felicity tucking the gun into the waistband of her jeans, now feeling like Calamity Jane. Whatever happened, she was ready, willing and more or less able.

  The moment they closed the cafeteria door behind them, the noise of the gun range died down, and they all took a table by the window looking out at the firing line.

  “What’s wrong?” Felicity asked.

  “We just got the call,” Bettina said gravely.

  Alice raised her hand to her lips. “Oh no!”

  “What call?” Felicity wanted to know. She wasn’t overly familiar with the inner workings of the neighborhood watch committee yet.

  “The call from Chief Whitehouse,” said Mabel, her face uncharacteristically serious. “He’s told us off.”

  Felicity could make head nor tails of this. “Off? Off what?”

  “Off the investigation,” Marjorie clarified. She appeared sheepish, as the other women threw her annoyed glances. “I know I shouldn’t have told him!” she suddenly cried. “But we never keep secrets from each other.”

  “Well, you sure as heck should have kept this one,” remarked Alice.

  “I know,” said Marjorie, casting down her eyes.

  Felicity had the impression she’d been admitted to a secret club but the members had forgotten to hand her the rulebook. “Secrets? What secrets? From whom?”

  Alice turned to her. “Marjorie has gone and told Virgil we’re working the case and Virgil has gone and told my father and now he’s gone and told us we can’t work the case anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “He always does that. Every time I’m having fun he has to go and spoil everything. Remember that one time I was going to stuff a dead snake in Kimberly Layan’s lunchbox and he caught me taking it to school?” She shook her head, disgusted. “He actually made me fess up to Kimberly. Spoilsport.”

  It seemed to Felicity that a murder investigation was quite a different matter altogether from playing a prank in middle school, but she refrained from voicing the thought. “But we don’t care, do we? I mean, your father is not the boss of us. He can’t tell us what to do.”

  “He can and he will,” said Alice gloomily. “He’ll warn off all the suspects. Tell them not to talk to us in any way, shape or form.”

  “Can he do that? He can’t do that!” If this was the case, Felicity’s article was doomed.

  “Of course he can,” acknowledged Mabel gloomily. “He’s done it before and he’ll do it again.”

  “So you mean if we want to talk to Mary Long or Peter Conch—”

  “No one will talk to us.” Bettina gritted her teeth. “This is the end.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Marjorie said feebly.

  “It’s not so much you we’re blaming, honey,” said Mabel. “It’s that son of yours. Virgil
should decide once and for all whose side he’s one. Ours or the chief’s.”

  And with those words, a heavy silence descended upon the company, only broken by the sonorous voice of Reece Hudson. “What can I get you ladies?”

  Instantly, the mood lifted, as five pairs of eyes traveled up to the handsome movie star and a collective sigh seemed to hang in the air. The investigation might have gone down the drain, but at least they would be able to tell their grandchildren that they’d been served by a bona fide Hollywood movie star.

  Chapter 35

  Reece Hudson proved that he wasn’t only a great action hero, he prepared a mean espresso. If ever his movie career tanked, he could always find employ as a barista. Five minutes later, the members of the HBNWC were sipping from their cups and staring dreamily at the man behind the bar, who now stood toweling glasses with practiced ease.

  Suddenly Alice thought of something. “Why don’t I have a chat with dad? I mean, I’m still his daughter, right?”

  “We’ve gone down that road before, remember, honey?” asked Mabel. “The Kurtz Weilheim case?”

  Alice grimaced. “Right. Totally forgot about that.” Kurtz Weilheim had been a political refugee from Kazakhstan, but rumored to be the ruler of a small European country laying low because a revolution had rocked his nation and the rebels were out to get him. The HBNWC, rightfully concerned that rebel forces would invade Long Island looking for the king, had discretely started asking around, only to find that either people had no knowledge of Kurtz Weilheim’s secret identity, or had downright been forbidden to talk about the man. Finally, Alice had been sent to Chief Whitehouse to inquire and been told to back off.

  A little while later it was revealed that Kurtz Weilheim, far from being a European ruler, was a cheat and a fraud. One of those tricksters pretending to be rich while not possessing a bean. The story of him being a king in disguise was one he’d concocted himself. An arrest warrant had been issued, but by then the bird had flown, taking a good chunk of Happy Bays savings along with him.

  “Can I join you ladies?” a male voice sounded. And before they could stop him, Reece had pulled up a chair and had plunked himself down. Alice felt a blush creep up her cheeks and seep into her soul at the close proximity with one whom she’d always admired from afar.

  “What were you talking about?” he asked pleasantly.

  “A case we’re working on,” said Marjorie, losing something of her customary frostiness. To Alice’s surprise the old lady was actually smiling, though from the way her lips trembled it was obvious those muscles hadn’t been used in years.

  “Case? You mean the murder case?” His eyes widened. “Are you all working on it?”

  “We are.” Alice swept her hand in an encompassing gesture. “Meet the members of the Happy Bays Neighborhood Watch Committee.” In a few brief words she introduced the ladies present, all of whose wrinkled faces were now wreathed in ridiculous smiles, their facial muscles straining at their respective leashes.

  Even Felicity was smiling, Alice saw, even though she was spoken for. A pang of jealousy shot through her once again. Though she knew it was silly, she didn’t enjoy the fact that Reece and Fe were getting along so well.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Reece said pleasantly. “And what have you found so far?”

  “Not much,” admitted Bettina sadly. “We’re being sabotaged.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Sabotaged? By whom?”

  All eyes swiveled to Alice, whose blush deepened. “My father. He’s the chief of police and doesn’t like us meddling with police business.”

  “And my son,” Marjorie added. “He’s a cop too.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Reece, his eyes flickering gaily, as if he was enjoying this rare look into the inner kitchen of Happy Bays. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way around this sabotage, right?”

  “We’re working on it,” Alice assured him, “though my father is a hard nut to crack. When he wants us off the case, he’ll make sure we stay off.”

  “Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Reece suggested. The ladies expressed their surprise with aahs and oohs and he continued, “My dad and Chief Whitehouse go way back—in fact my father used to be a cop when Chief Whitehouse was a rookie himself.”

  Alice frowned and so did the others. This was news to them. The only one who didn’t seem surprised was Mabel. “I heard about that. They had a fight of some kind.” She quickly held up her hands when Reece didn’t immediately respond. “I mean, that’s what I heard. I could be wrong, of course.”

  “No, you’re right. They did have a fight. Chief Whitehouse had allowed a traffic ticket to be expunged and my father felt this wasn’t right. He felt it was a form of corruption that if left unchecked could fester and infect the entire police force. When Chief Trass decided to side with Curtis Whitehouse Dad resigned and opened the gun range.”

  Alice stared at the man. This was news to her. “My father was a corrupt cop?”

  Reece looked concerned. “Not at all. He did what he thought was right, I’m sure.”

  “The ticket, who was it for?” asked Marjorie, tight-lipped. This revelation was further driving down Chief Whitehouse’s stock.

  “Toby Aldrich,” Reece said.

  “Didn’t he used to be mayor?” Felicity said thoughtfully.

  “He was. And since the mayor is in charge of the police department your father was simply following orders, but that’s not the way my father saw it,” Reece explained. “In any case, I think if my father has a chat with the chief, perhaps he can smooth things over.”

  “I don’t see how,” said Alice. “I mean, if our fathers have had this feud going for such a long time, it’s hard to imagine my father accepting advice from yours.” Especially since her father had this pigheaded quality, she thought. He didn’t like to take advice from anyone.

  Reece smiled. “I think he will. You see, several years later, when Mayor Aldrich asked Chief Whitehouse to extend him the same courtesy again, your father decided that this time he’d had enough. So he asked Dad to dig up the old ticket, add it to the new one, and the two of them got the city council to oust the mayor. They’ve been friends ever since.”

  Marjorie pursed her lips. “I say it’s worth a shot. I vote yea.” And she stuck up her hand.

  “Definitely,” agreed Mabel, holding up her hand.

  “Third,” said Bettina, flipping her wing into the air.

  “Fourth,” agreed Alice, following suit, then thumped the table. “Motion accepted.”

  Alice grinned at the curious expression on Reece’s face. It reminded her of the way he’d looked in Crunch Time 2 when his co-star had shot him in the shoulder so her cover as a drug mule wouldn’t be compromised. “We always vote,” she explained, then looked at the others.

  “I have a proposition to make,” suddenly spoke Marjorie.

  “Let’s hear it,” Bettina said.

  “I propose that for the duration of this investigation we add Reece and Felicity to the committee as honorary members.”

  Approving murmurs sounded from all gathered and Alice felt a surge of heat arc through her at the thought of working closely together with Reece Hudson. Quick as a flash she raised her hand, and the others laughed at her enthusiasm. They quickly seconded, thirded and fourthed the motion.

  “I’m honored,” said Reece with a nod of the head, “and I gracefully accept.” For a moment Alice thought he would thank his director, producer, and co-stars but he seemed to realize this was not the time or the place.

  “I also accept,” said Felicity. “Let’s crack this case wide open.”

  Reece’s arm brushed against Alice’s and she thought she was going to melt. Glancing sideways, she saw that he, too, was aware of the rising heat between them and she swallowed away a lump in her throat. “We, erm, we’ll have to meet regularly,” she said, without looking at him.

  “No problem. Crunch Time 4 doesn’t start shooting til September.”

  “Don’t y
ou have a wedding to plan?” asked Bettina quite inappropriately. “I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but…”

  All eyes turned to Reece, and his smile vanished. “I, erm… Well, since I’m visiting my father…” He looked away, like an actor annoyed with a pesky reporter. “…I have some extra time on my hands.”

  There was a momentary silence, as all present took this in, then Mabel raised her glass. “Let’s drink to our two newest members!”

  A round of applause rang out and Alice thought ruefully that Felicity was probably right. Reece Hudson was a great catch, but he’d already been caught. And the barracuda who caught him wasn’t likely to let go. Which left her well out of it.

  Oh, well, she thought, spring cleaning wasn’t as bad as all that.

  Chapter 36

  “What did you think?” Felicity asked later that night when she and Alice were back at their cozy little house on Stanwyck Street.

  “He’s nice,” Alice said without looking up from her copy of People Magazine.

  “Yeah, he’s much nicer than I thought. For a movie star I mean. Almost like a regular guy.”

  “A very nice regular guy,” Alice added softly.

  “He did seem uncomfortable when the topic of his nuptials came up,” she said. “What do you think that was all about?”

  “Just one of those things he doesn’t like to talk about I guess.”

  “Private matter. None of our business, huh?”

  Alice merely shrugged. To her, too, the topic seemed a touchy one.

  “I think there’s more to it than that,” Felicity finally said, trudging on. “I think—and correct me if I’m wrong—that there’s definitely a rift in the works between Reece Hudson and his future wife.”

  Alice finally looked up, her interest sparked. “Oh?”