“Better make us a thermos full of the good stuff,” Amanda encouraged her. “There's no telling what we're going to be dealing with once we arrive at the police station, love.”
“A lot of headaches, no doubt,” Sarah replied and hurried to make the coffee. Amanda sat down at the kitchen table and waited. As Sarah poured the water into the coffee maker, she turned to Amanda to share with her some of what she had learned. “Peter informed me that Mr. Hopski is...was…a man worth quite a bit of money. If my guess is correct and we have four hungry gold diggers buzzing around Andrew's office, then aside from our public relations work, we really need to focus on the autopsy report. We need to make sure Mr. Hopski’s death wasn’t foul play.”
Amanda studied Sarah's face. Something in her best friend's eyes caught her attention. “Ah, there is something more...much more. Do tell.”
Sarah nodded as she scooped fresh, strong coffee into the filter above the coffee pot on the kitchen counter. “All four of Mr. Hopski's family members hurried up here to our little town. Why? Why didn't they arrange for the deceased...I mean, for Mr. Hopski to be taken back?”
“Thanks for softening the punch, love,” Amanda said in a grateful voice. Then she rubbed her chin. “Yes, why didn't they just make arrangements for the poor man to be taken back to Los Angeles? Why did the whole family need to come?”
“That's a very good question, June Bug. Also,” Sarah pointed out, “it's required that the State of Alaska perform an autopsy. Apparently when Andrew informed them of this information, someone was not too happy. They wanted the body released right away. With the money Mr. Hopski's family has, they could easily request a second autopsy that could be performed in Los Angeles. It seems to me, and I could be wrong, that Mr. Hopski's 'Eager Beavers' might have some hidden concerns that we need to investigate.”
“Oh, I like,” Amanda said in a sneaky voice. “I wonder what secrets they're hiding?”
“I'm sure we're going to find out.”
“This reminds me of the game Clue,” Amanda told Sarah and rubbed her hands together. “I was always very good at that game.”
“I'm sure you were,” Sarah assured her best friend with a grin. She leaned against the kitchen counter listening to the coffee dripping steadily into the pot and studied Amanda's face. “At least we're not dealing with dangerous killers. At least I don't think we are. Even if we aren't, we stay together as a team, right?”
“You bet,” Amanda promised. “We learned the hard way that going our separate ways only leads to difficulties and hardships.”
Sarah nodded. “We're a team, June Bug. You and me.”
“And Conrad,” Amanda added with a mischievous wink. Sarah blushed. “Okay, okay, for now, we'll let the topic of love rest and focus on the case at hand.” Amanda placed her hands down onto her lap and studiously furrowed her brow in concentration. “So, tell me Detective Garland, love, in your professional opinion, what do you surmise that we are up against?”
Sarah folded her arms together. “We'll know a little more once we get the autopsy report back. From everything Andrew said, it does appear that Mr. Hopski died from exposure to the elements. However, appearances can be deceiving.”
Amanda nodded. As she did, a sudden thought rushed into her mind. “Say,” she said, her eyes growing wide with fear, “if Mr. Hopski was murdered, you don't suppose the murderer could still be lurking around, do you?”
“Let’s not get too worried about that,” Sarah reassured her friend, smiling at her flight of fancy. “Andrew said the body of Mr. Hopski appeared to have been dead for a long period of time. If the poor man was murdered, I wouldn’t assume his killer would still be around. However,” Sarah added, “if he was murdered, I do know where we would start looking: the killer could easily be one of his own family members...or someone else hiding in the shadows. But if that’s the case, we will no doubt turn up plenty of clues.”
Amanda solemnly nodded. “Okay, Los Angeles, I think my mind is ready to tackle this case.”
Sarah glanced down at the coffee pot and drew in a deep breath of the freshly brewed aroma as the coffee started to drip into the pot. For a few moments, she let her mind rest in the cozy aroma and thought about how nice it would be to take a trip down to Los Angeles and see Peter, and maybe even have a picnic on the beach. But her memories of Los Angeles were not sunny, they were clouded by the image of her ex-husband that rushed into her mind, followed by the memories of their very painful divorce. “Me, too, I’m ready for whatever happens,” she told Amanda as she turned off the coffee machine and resolutely pushed the image of her ex-husband out of her mind.
“Hey, are you okay?” Amanda asked, alarmed at her friend’s sudden grim tone of voice.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders and tried to hide her thoughts by turning to get the coffee thermos out of the cupboard. She reluctantly turned back, turning the metal hulk of the thermos over in her hands, contemplating. “You know...I never would have thought that I would end up divorced and living in Alaska. My marriage...my life, seemed so concrete...so...secure. Of course, when the red flags appeared I simply ignored them.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Like a fool.”
“You're not a fool.”
“I was,” Sarah said back, sharper than she intended. She looked into Amanda’s eyes apologetically. “I didn't act until the iceberg struck my marriage dead on, June Bug. And by then, my marriage was too damaged to save... My ex-husband's heart...his love for me...was gone. Like it had sunk into an icy sea.” Sarah sighed. “I blamed myself for the divorce for a long, long time. Now I know it takes two to tango. I didn't force my husband to leave me, he chose to. But why? Why didn’t I see the signs that he was pulling away? I was a faithful wife, loyal and dedicated. But I didn’t see it. Was I working too many long hours? Was my job too demanding? Was he intimidated by my friends on the force? Did my job not leave enough room for our love to flourish?” Sarah shrugged her shoulders again. “He stopped loving me and there's nothing I can do to change that. All I can do now is go on with my life. But...it hurts.”
“I know, love.”
Sarah looked down at the coffee pot again. “I wish I could say old wounds have healed, but I would be lying to you. That's why I'm not ready for a relationship. I need time to heal. Of course,” Sarah added, “dealing with these murder cases has taken my mind off my troubles. And believe it or not, I'm writing better, too. I finished off my last novel before the snow started to melt. My publisher was very happy.”
Amanda stood up, walked over to Sarah, and hugged her. “You're going to be okay, love. And don't worry, we'll never get a divorce.” Amanda winked at Sarah. “We're family for life, you and me. And someday, when the time is right, a good man will come into your life.”
“Do you really think so?” Sarah asked in a hopeful voice.
“I do,” Amanda smiled. She motioned around the kitchen with her eyes. “Someday your cabin might be filled with a grumpy husband ringing a bloody bell.”
“I can wait for the bell,” Sarah giggled and nudged Amanda with her elbow. “Thanks, June Bug.”
Amanda nudged Sarah back. “That's what best friends are for. And speaking of best friends, please, oh please, let me spend the night with you. Simon can live off his pretzels and York Peppermint Patties until I return home.”
Sarah started to protest, but then she smiled. Oh, what the heck, she thought. “Sure, June Bug. But I can’t stand the idea of our friendship intruding too much on your marriage – it’s too close to what sunk my own marriage. So instead of you sleeping here, I'll sleep over at your cabin. Misery does love company.”
Amanda cocked her head to one side, considering Sarah's offer. “This does appeal to my poor, aggravated mind. Hey, love, I like the way your mind thinks. We can tackle my husband in shifts.”
“I'm sure we can,” Sarah agreed. “I'll bring the earmuffs and aspirin.”
Amanda broke out laughing. “And I'll tie the hanging noose as a last resort!”<
br />
“Speaking of nooses, Andrew might be ready to hang himself by now. He's a good man, but he's not really a people person.”
“Poor dear,” Amanda agreed. “I guess we better hurry to his rescue.”
Sarah studied the coffee pot. “A couple more minutes and we'll be set. In the meantime, I need to use the bathroom.”
“I'll mind the kitchen.”
Sarah nodded and rushed off. Amanda smiled and sat back down at the kitchen table. She let her eyes roam around the kitchen. The kitchen was warm and cozy and felt like a second home to her. Of course, it was her best friend who made the kitchen feel like a second home. “She deserved better than that bloke who hurt her heart,” she fussed to herself. “Poor dear.”
The telephone rang again. “Well, this place is like Victoria Station today,” she muttered. Amanda stood, walked over to the phone, and answered the call. “Oh, hello Conrad,” she said in a pleased voice.
“Hello, Amanda,” Conrad said, standing in a smoky office holding a lukewarm cup of coffee in his hand. “How are things in Snow Falls?”
“Oh, the same as always,” Amanda smiled. “How are things in New York?”
Conrad looked down at the stale cup of coffee he was holding. “The same,” he confessed. “Coffee is still lousy, donuts are still stale and crime is still rampant.”
Amanda detected a touch of homesickness in Conrad's voice. “Could it be you're missing the peace and quiet of Alaska?”
“Could be,” Conrad confessed. “Is Sarah around?”
“She's...powdering her nose,” Amanda told Conrad, looking around to see if Sarah had emerged yet.
“I see,” Conrad said. “Listen, Andrew called me and—”
“Oh, that man,” Amanda fussed.
Conrad chuckled. He could imagine Amanda's face. “Listen, if you two get into any serious trouble with this case, call me and I'll jump on a flight back home. Andrew doesn't seem to think this Mr. Hopski was murdered, but just in case any funny business did take place—”
“Yes, yes, we'll call you,” Amanda promised Conrad. “I'm going to kick Andrew in his knee for bothering you. His bad knee. What does he think Los Angeles and I are, anyway? A couple of helpless women?”
“No, no,” Conrad replied hurriedly, jumping into damage control mode. “Amanda, I am Senior Detective and it's Andrew's job to notify me when a body is found. He assured me of the confidence he has in you and Sarah.”
“Oh...well, I guess that does make sense,” Amanda cooled down and then she kicked herself for being so silly. “Andrew would have to notify you...why didn't I realize that? Silly me.”
“Silly you,” Conrad agreed, breathing a sigh of relief. “Listen, I better get my nose back to the grindstone. Tell Sarah I called. And if you girls get into any trouble, call me.”
“We will,” Amanda promised. “Conrad?”
“Yeah?”
“Come home soon, okay? Snow Falls isn't the same without you and a certain person, even though she will never admit it openly, misses you. But you didn’t hear that from me.” Amanda looked around again hurriedly but luckily there was no sign of Sarah.
“Of course,” Conrad assured Amanda. “Oh, by the way, how is Simon's leg? Poor guy took quite a hard fall off your roof.”
“Don't get me started on my dear hubby and that bloody bell of his,” Amanda said through gritted teeth.
“That bad, huh?”
“Nails down a chalkboard,” Amanda confessed.
Conrad nodded and drained his stale coffee in one gulp. The coffee tasted horrible. He missed Sarah's coffee. He missed Sarah. “Broken legs do heal in time,” he attempted to comfort Amanda.
“But one's sanity doesn't,” Amanda countered.
Conrad laughed. “True,” he said.
“Alright, enough chit-chat. Put your eyes back to the sidewalk—”
“Nose back to the grindstone—”
“That, too,” Amanda smiled. They said goodbye and she hung up the phone. A minute later, Sarah walked back into the kitchen. “That was Conrad.”
“Oh?” Sarah said noncommittally, walking over to pour the coffee into the thermos.
“Apparently Andrew called him?”
“Of course. Since Conrad is the Senior Detective,” Sarah said.
Amanda silently cursed herself for being a fool. “I made a big fuss of it, I'm afraid.”
“Of course you did,” Sarah replied and looked over her shoulder at Amanda and smiled. “Let me guess,” she said, “Conrad called to say that if you and I get into any trouble we should call him, right?”
“Yep,” Amanda nodded her head. She walked over to Sarah and watched her secure the lid of the thermos. “He cares, you know.”
“I know he does.”
“He's also very hurt inside, just like you,” Amanda pointed out.
“I know.”
Amanda stood silent for a few seconds. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “Keep your heart open to him, love.”
Sarah looked into Amanda's warm, caring eyes. “I never closed my heart off to begin with,” she promised. “Now, we better get our back ends in gear and get down to the police station.”
“One sec,” Amanda said. She ran over to the refrigerator, snatched the door open, and pulled out a box of day-old cinnamon rolls. “Now we're ready for the road.”
Sarah turned off the coffee pot and checked the kitchen. “I'll unpack my sweaters later,” she said, glancing briefly at the shopping bag sitting untouched on the kitchen table.
Amanda walked over to the kitchen door and opened it. “Shall we?”
“Away we go,” Sarah said. She grabbed the green thermos and walked outside into the fresh air of an Alaska day filled with sunlight that practically sparkled through the limbs of the lush evergreens. She soaked in the beauty as she walked to Amanda's truck. The day was far too beautiful to be spent questioning and babysitting a bunch of selfish – not to mention possibly dangerous – gold-digging eager beavers. She blinked and thought she saw Peter standing beside her Subaru with his fishing pole in hand, grinning at her to hurry up and get moving. “You old grouch,” Sarah whispered in a wistful voice, ignoring another lump in her throat. She climbed into the passenger's seat of the truck and closed the door.
***
Natalie Hopski watched Sarah and Amanda walk into Andrew's stuffy office with cynical, cold eyes. “Where are they?” she demanded without even a greeting.
Sarah quickly examined the older woman before her. She had expected to find the kind of fit, tanned rich woman she used to see everywhere in Los Angeles in her years as a detective there. Instead, she saw that Natalie Hopski was a very large woman with short, abundantly curly – even poufy – auburn hair that was obviously dyed. She wore a purple dress that was as fluffy with chiffon ruffles as her hair was poufy, and the whole effect reminded Sarah rather unfortunately of a clown. But, Sarah cautioned herself, Natalie Hopski's eyes were brilliant and belied the dangerous personality hiding behind this extravagantly strange exterior.
Not wanting to be rude, Sarah extended a hand to Natalie Hopski. Natalie finally shook Sarah’s hand perfunctorily, the grip of her large hand firm, if sweaty. “Hello, Ms. Hopski. My name is Detective Garland. I'm acting Detective while Detective Spencer is away. This is my partner, Detective Funnel.” Sarah wiped her palm on her jacket and hoped Natalie didn’t see.
Amanda offered a quick and professional smile toward Natalie. “We hope your flight went well. And we are so very sorry for the unfortunate loss of your father.”
“Yes,” Natalie snapped. She focused her attention back on Andrew who was sitting behind his wooden desk, shifting uneasily in his seat. “I want to see my father's body.”
“Unfortunately—” Visibly uncomfortable, Andrew began to speak, his eyes begging Sarah’s for help.
“Once the state autopsy is completed we'll make the necessary arrangements for a viewing,” Sarah spoke smoothly for Andrew. Andrew gave Sarah a grateful look.
“No, ma’am, it isn't. But we have rules and protocols that must be followed. Your father's body was found dead. State regulations require an official autopsy in order to rule out any foul play.”
“In other words, you want to make sure my father wasn't murdered?” Natalie huffed. “The very idea. My father was a very old man.” Natalie shook her head. “It’s a wonder he didn’t drop dead years ago on one of his ill-advised trips to who-knows-where. At times, he would disappear for weeks on one of his hunting trips without telling anyone.”
“So, you were unaware that Mr. Hopski traveled to Alaska on a hunting trip?” Sarah asked with an air of mild surprise. The last thing she wanted was for Natalie to suspect that they were already testing avenues of investigation with these questions.
“Of course not. Don't you have ears?” Natalie said indignantly, pursing her lips as if biting back further insults.
Amanda began to loosen her tongue, but Sarah quickly shook her head at her. “Mr. Hopski was an experienced hunter, I take it?”
Natalie nodded her head. “My father hunted every game known to man. His favorite hunting locations are...were...in Africa. But a few years back he became obsessed with hunting bears. Why? Who knows? Sometimes I think that man wanted a bear to kill him.”
“Why would you say that?” Sarah asked.
“Because my father was suffering from mental illness,” Natalie snapped. “The poor man was never mentally sound from day one. Everyone knew about it. One day he would be in the best of moods and the next he would rip your head off.”
“Are you saying he was bi-polar?”
“I see your keen detective’s mind is hard at work,” Natalie muttered, rolling her eyes.
Sarah ignored the barb. “Did your father take any medication for his depression?”
“I'm not sure. My father was very difficult to handle,” Natalie told Sarah and abruptly changed the subject. “Where is the autopsy being performed?” she demanded.
Spring into Murder (Alaska Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 3
