Marion Mysteries: Books 1-3 (A Cozy Mystery Bundle)

by Amy Andersen

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Just as she was shaking Gina’s hand, Glenn came over to join them.

  “I see you two have met already. Marion,” he pulled her in for a familiar hug and squeezed her tight, “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Thanks.” She pulled back, her heart pounding. A bad match or not, there was no denying she and Glenn crackled when they got together.

  He had on a black sweater and black pants and his hair was combed so that it was perfectly in place. He usually liked to look a little more devil-may-care, let his hair get messy and his clothes rumpled. Glenn preferred to look as if he were mid-adventure and let his admirers fill in the details of where he might have been. Seeing him so put together made Marion’s head spin a bit. He looked like a model and every female in the room had noticed.

  Gina got a big smile on her face as her handsome doctor laid his charm on her extra thick. “Doctor, thank you so much for coming. I’m sure it will mean the world to Julie.” She sighed and gazed across the room at her weeping granddaughter. “I don’t know if there was ever a more tragic wedding day. And poor Fred, we had no idea he was struggling. Growing up, he was always the happiest little boy.”

  The three spoke together a bit, Gina sharing some memories of her grandson while Glenn and Marion listened and nodded. A second group formed next to them. Marion did her best not to snoop on the nearby conversation, but a young man introduced himself as Daniel Taylor to a new acquaintance and she wasn’t able to stop herself. As soon as she heard that name, her ears zeroed in on the man, anxious to get a better idea of who he was and what he was like.

  “Our poor Julie,” he was saying, “she doesn’t deserve this. It will be years before she can move on with her life. A tragedy like this.” He shook his head, but something about him seemed a little theatrical. Marion felt in her gut that old feeling she always got when someone was lying; this guy wasn’t really sad. Marion could sense a coldness, a lack of feeling in his voice. Everyone else was quietly murmuring while Daniel held court in the corner, looking practically royal in the corner of Julie’s living room.

  “Hello,” Marion spun around and held out her hand for Daniel to shake. “I think you’ve been in my salon, Silver Shears. Do I have that right?”

  Daniel started at the sudden introduction, then caught himself and took her hand, pumping it up and down. “I don’t believe so. I cut my own hair at home. What is your name?”

  “Marion. So sorry, I was sure I recognized you. What is your name?”

  “Daniel. Daniel Taylor.”

  “How did you know Fred?”

  “Through Julie.” He gestured over to the weeping woman with his paper plate. “She and I have known one another for a long time. She got engaged to Fred and we spoke a couple of times. I’m here more for her if I’m being honest.” Marion noticed his voice grew warmer as he spoke about his crush. He even relaxed into a little smile. “And you? How do you know Fred?”

  “I found his body after it hit the ground outside my salon. Excuse me, I need to be going.” She quickly left the conversation and caught Glenn’s eye for just a moment. He raised an eyebrow at her; what’s up with you? She shook her head and continued out the door. She couldn’t be around Daniel another moment, being near him chilled her blood.

  Daniel went on talking and posturing for his small audience, but he didn’t see Marion observing him a final time from the front door. She took in his insincerity, his lack of emotion, the bad acting and filed it all away. She also thought about everything Gina had said and remembered how content Fred had been.

  How did he do it? How did he kill Fred in the hotel room without unlocking the door?

  Chapter 5

  Marion’s kitchen smelled amazing; she pulled her famous homemade macaroni and cheese out of the oven, sprinkled just a little extra cheese, some bread crumbs and a drizzle of olive oil on top, then put it under the broiler. It would get nice and golden brown on top just in time for lunch with Carter. She tossed the salad once more, mixing everything together, then added in a few more carrot shreds. Just as she got everything ready, Carter knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” She pulled their drinks out; diet soda for her, beer for her brother, and put them on the table.

  “Hey Sis. Jeez, you really got fancy in here. Is that mac and cheese I smell?”

  “Yes. But it comes with a price.” She pulled the pasta out for a final time and set it down in front of her brother so the scent of melted cheese and fresh pasta would waft up to him. “You don’t get a bite of this unless you talk to me about Fred’s case.”

  Carter looked at the perfectly prepared dish in front of him and then at Marion, his sister with a penchant toward crime solving. He shrugged as he shovelled out a big portion of cheesy noodles for himself. “Alright, you’re in. Let me tell you everything I know and you can give me your take.”

  “Great.” She sat down next to him and got a portion of macaroni for herself, then some salad, which Carter waved away. “So,” she started, pouring a little dressing on her greens, “what are you thinking?”

  Chewing, Carter got a little pensive for a moment, reflecting on the past few days. “Well, as you can imagine, everyone in Chippingville has a theory and no one can seem to agree. Everyone is fixated on the fact that his room was locked from the outside. Some people are claiming that this detail is the one that mucks up the case, while everyone else is saying that’s exactly what makes it so clear.”

  “Were there any cameras anywhere? Did anyone see anything?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Carter wiped his mouth and opened his phone. He clicked around for a moment, scrolling through thumbnails of photos and videos. “We’ve got a video of a waitress going to Fred’s room the day he died. It’s even weirder.” He clicked on an icon and a video of the corridor outside of Fred’s room started playing. The time stamp in the corner showed that it was about midday when a blonde server wheeled over a cart of food for Fred’s lunch. The door opened and the server entered for a moment, reappeared in the hallway, then steered her cart away. As she left, the door to the room closed. That was it.

  The two of them sat silently for a moment, then Carter closed the computer and put it up on the kitchen island. “So,” he said, turning back to his food, “as you can see, we’re just not sure.”

  Marion sat back and thought about the hotel room; it was pretty straightforward. He’d had a large bed, a couple of armchairs, a TV in a wardrobe, a little desk. What else did a hotel room have? It had internet access, writing implements, a heater … She paced around the room, arms crossed, then stopped and looked at Carter.

  “Did you check the air vents? Could someone have crawled in through the air conditioning system?”

  Carter nodded, finishing his food. “I checked that as well. The vent is pretty small and perfectly screwed onto the wall with teeny tiny screws. On top of that, the grate is screwed on tight from the outside. Someone would have to work pretty hard to get from the air vent to the room. Granted,” he continued, “someone with a slim build or who was a bit shorter could feasibly have crawled through, but how would they have gotten into the room? Fred would have literally had to help someone through the vent, and that’s just not a likely scenario. I don’t know about you, but when I see someone breaking into my hotel room, I don’t take the time to say, “Hey, I better get the heck out of there.” He shrugged and fell back against his chair. “The only explanation that makes any sense is that he jumped out the window. I know it’s odd; it was his wedding day, he was a happy guy. But Sis, there is just no way someone could have gotten in there without being on camera or breaking down the door or being seen. He killed himself.”

  Marion tried to steady her breathing, but she was furious. How much clearer could it be that this hadn’t been a suicide?

  “The phone! What about the phone? What did you find there?”

  Carter shook his head again. “Sorry, Sis. Nothing of any value. It was just the usua
l texts and photos.” He stood and put his hands on her shoulders in a loving, big brother way. “I think you’re going to have to let this one go.”

  She didn’t respond, just let all of this sink in and let herself imagine the room, Fred inside and what Daniel could have done to kill him. She didn’t tell Carter her theory that there was a new murderer loose in town; she wasn’t sure he would have been receptive to her ideas at the moment. She had to find some proof if she wanted her brother to listen to her and that was exactly what she planned to do.

  Chapter 6

  Marion walked into Silver Shears the next morning and her heart sank at the sight of the place. The police tape outside her entrance was still fluttering in the breeze, making for a horrible juxtaposition against her pristine business. She tore the tape down and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

  She checked the machine for any messages; it was empty. A few bills had piled up on the floor and she went through them one by one, each breaking her heart a little more. How was she going to keep paying for things like electricity and water when no one wanted to come near her?

  Outside the door, several people stood outside peering in. When Marion looked up and saw them, they scurried away. As they left, she couldn’t help but notice how many of them were in desperate need of a trim or a deep conditioning treatment. Their dry, shaggy hair moved down the street at a fast clip, leaving Marion behind.

  She turned back to her bills, then shoved them in a drawer. She turned on the radio to distract herself, but the first thing to come on was the news.

  “And the mysterious dead body that fell in front of local salon, Silver Shears, still has police officers stumped. Captain Carter Fox released a statement today …” Marion shut it off, unwilling to hear another word about the case.

  Behind her, the bells on the door jingled to life and she turned excitedly to see who was walking in, then she got even more excited when she saw Glenn standing there. He smiled at her and blushed a little.

  “Hey. I’m looking a little shaggy. I was kind of hoping you could maybe give me a cut.” He put his hands in his pockets, then took them out to run them through his hair. Marion’s heart slammed against her sternum. How was he this handsome? And why hadn’t he gone to Michael’s place? She was sure they would do a great job. But, he was here, at the haunted salon favored by dead bodies.

  “Of course. Have a seat.” He sat in a chair and she stood behind him. Her chest was hovering just behind his head. If he tilted his head back he would brush against her and right into her cleavage. She cleared her throat. “So, you want the same style, right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I think so.” He smiled into the mirror so that she could see it and she smiled back at him. “And a shampoo for sure. I love the stuff you use. It gets my hair to lie really well.”

  “Definitely.” She ran her fingers through his soft, sandy blonde hair and marvelled at how thick and healthy it was. He did in fact look a little shaggy, but it was a look he pulled off very well. Outside the salon, a few passers-by slowed down and looked in to see Marion gently tousling the doctor’s hair, both of them looking intoxicated by the feel of her fingers moving against his scalp and through his hair.

  She picked up a smock and whirled it through the air so that it settled on top of him. “Okay, let’s get you to a shampoo station.” She pulled him out of the chair and saw his muscular chest come straight toward her. It took her a moment to remember where they were going and then she gestured to the sinks so that he would go to the side of the salon.

  Once he was settled in, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. She got the water going and made sure the temperature was at a nice level, then sprayed his hair so that it bowed under the weight of the hot water. She ran her hand over his scalp, spreading the water over him and over her hand. Gently, she massaged in the shampoo, giving him a little cap of bubbles. She looked up when a regular walked by and waved, and when she looked down she saw a little trickle of soap going down his cheek.

  “Oops,” she gently wiped the soap away, her thumb brushing his lower lip for a second. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be.” His face relaxed into a sleepy expression. She finished up with his shampoo and gave him a quick conditioning, then wrapped his head in a towel. He stood up in his flowing, cape-like smock and his towel coiled on his head like a crown and floated his way back to the chair. Marion giggled a little at the sight of him so dolled up.

  “What?” He turned and looked at himself in the mirror. “Don’t I look nice?”

  “You look great.” She unwound the towel from his head, trying to avoid eye contact with him and failing terribly. Those bright blue eyes kept grabbing her attention. She picked up her scissors and started the cut, slowly shearing away at his soft, clean hair.

  “Thanks for coming in today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Marion gestured to the empty salon. “As you can see, business has gotten pretty slow. The body count is really not helping.”

  He reached out for her hand and held it in his own. “Marion,” he said, turning to face her, “I didn’t come to do you a favor. I’m here because you’re great at what you do. Truly.”

  She blushed and looked down, doing her best not to cry at his kindness. “Then thank you for not doing me a favor.” She looked at his rugged, sweet face again and reluctantly gave him his hand back. “Things have been so crazy around here, it’s kind of taken me away from what I really love. I love doing hair. I really do.”

  She continued the cut in silence and Glenn watched her through the mirror. He didn’t take his eyes off of her once. He found Marion Fox thoroughly fascinating. His pulse sped up every time they were close together and the feel of her hands in his hair was pushing him over the edge.

  He closed his eyes as she cut the front of his hair, the little strands sprinkling down onto his high cheekbones. Gently, Marion brushed them away, her temperature rising as she focused on his face; the sight of his eyelashes resting on his skin made her breathe a little faster.

  “How is everybody? Talk to Carter lately?”

  “Sure. He’s fine.”

  “Hey,” Glenn said, his mouth twisted in a wry smile, “how come that brother of yours doesn’t like me? What did I do to him?”

  “Who knows? The day he explains himself to me will be a national holiday. He’s a vault.” Marion focused on finishing up his trim and tried not to stare at his high cheekbones. “How is everyone in your family?”

  He shrugged. “Ever since I murdered everyone in my family, things have been really quiet.”

  Marion burst out laughing at the joke, thrilled at the opportunity to just laugh and be inappropriate for a moment. When was the last time she’d just hung out and laughed with someone?

  “Yeah, that usually does the trick. That or abandoning them out at sea.”

  “Both highly effective.”

  They both broke down laughing and Marion messed up Glenn’s hair again, making it go every direction. It didn’t seem possible to make this guy unattractive. He inspected his new haircut in the mirror. It looked the same, but shorter and cleaner and now it laid a little better, the way he liked it.

  He turned to her and took her hand again. “I really love it. Thanks so much.”

  Marion blushed from her head to the tips of her toes. “No problem. Like I said, it’s what I love.”

  “This and solving murders, right?”

  She looked into his eyes and saw that she had been unable to fool him; he knew she was silently obsessing about how Fred had died. She nodded, reaching out to touch his face, “Haircuts and small town murders. That’s me.”

  He grabbed her hand and held it for a moment. He wanted to say something, but he hesitated. Finally, he looked into her eyes and said, “I need to know something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Ever since I told you about my dad and his criminal past,” he stopped, chewing his lip for a mome
nt, “I’ve been worried. Not about myself, but about your opinion of me. You have such a strong sense of justice and I like that so much about you. Does it change how see me, knowing that my dad is a con artist?”