Mrs. Fix It Mysteries, Season 2 (5 Cozy Mystery Books Collection)

by Belle Knudson

  Kate got to her feet and prayed the judge, a frazzled-looking woman in her late fifties whose robe was eggplant purple and not traditional black, would be understanding and let Jason out on bail.

  Her eyes brightened, meeting Kate’s gaze. “Mrs. Fix It! What a delight to have you in the courtroom!”

  The district attorney scowled, but Bart was proudly beaming.

  “I think I speak for all of Rock Ridge when I say, bravo for putting Demblowski in his place!”

  Completely thrown by the compliment, Kate didn’t know how to respond.

  “It’s my understanding that the police are questioning him now,” she went on. “Which makes me very curious about this case.” She was glaring at the district attorney now, but lowered her eyes to her desk where some paperwork was resting. “But this hearing is to address the possibility of Jason Flaherty’s bail.”

  “The people ask that Flaherty not be released on bail,” stated the district attorney.

  “Your Honor,” Bart cut in, “Jason Flaherty is not a flight risk. His passport has expired and he doesn’t have the financial means to flee. Not to mention he maintains his innocence and would never do anything to imply suspicion. He has obliged the police from day one, and is committed to continuing to do so.”

  “Agreed,” said the judge frankly. “Mr. Porter,” she went on, addressing the district attorney. “The only issue here is what Flaherty’s bail should be set at.”

  “Five million,” he stated with conviction.

  “Unreasonable!” Bart shouted and glared at his adversary. “And unheard of. We ask that bail be set at one hundred thousand.”

  The judge held her breath as though she already regretted what she was about to say. “One hundred thousand won’t appease the people. Your client’s innocence is still in question, no matter how much we love his mother. Bail is set at eight hundred thousand.”

  She slammed her gavel, startling Kate, and rushed from the bench to her chambers.

  “Perfect!” Bart exclaimed, turning to Jason who looked ill.

  “It’s fine, honey,” she told him, rubbing his arm before the guard could haul him back down to the jail. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart!” she called after him then scrambled for her cell phone, telling Bart, “My house was appraised at eight hundred and fifty thousand,” she explained. “I have the paperwork right here.”

  “Beautiful,” he said. “Forward it to me. I’ll make the arrangements and let you know when you can pick up Jason. Considering the charges, we can expect he’ll have to wear an ankle monitor.”

  “So he won’t be able to leave his house?” she asked.

  “He will, under certain provisions, that is. He’ll have a curfew and he won’t be able to go far when out of the house. This is a win, Kate.”

  “Right,” she reminded herself. “Just let me know when I can pick him up.”

  As she walked out to her truck, a swarm of reporters rushed over, but she kept her head down and repeated “no comment” until she had settled in behind the steering wheel. Once there, and perhaps because she was becoming immune to their harassment, she put in a quick call to the ICU to get an update on Scott’s condition.

  “He’s coming along just fine,” the nurse told her. “Though his blood pressure spikes every time one of his fellow officers tries to come into the room.”

  “Is there any way to prevent that?” she asked as a female reporter tapped her microphone against Kate’s window. Kate gave her the finger.

  “The blood pressure spike?”

  “No, is there any way to prevent police officers from entering his room?”

  The nurse paused as if confused. “Well they are here to protect him in case his attacker tries to get into the hospital.”

  “Just do what you can to keep them away. Tell them Scott’s recovery depends on rest and privacy,” she ordered then thanked the nurse, hanging up.

  The last thing Kate wanted to do was work on Justina’s apartment building. She would rather spend the day at the hospital with Scott until Jason was ready to be released on bail, but a promise was a promise, and the fact of the matter was that her fix-it business kept her sane.

  When she reached the apartment building on the south side of town and stepped out of her truck, the sun was beating down so hot that Kate worried she would be suffocated while working in the first unit. The apartment had no air conditioners and the layout didn’t afford a cross-breeze should she open all the windows. But as she keyed into the entrance door and then the apartment unit, she told herself she didn’t have more than a few hours’ work. The apartment was nearly ready.

  With respect to her priorities, she first brewed a strong pot of coffee. Once her mug was filled, she kneeled down on the floor, took a long sip, and started tiling.

  Given that she had repaired the rear entrance door and locked the front one after entering, she kept the apartment door wide open. So she was very surprised when she heard voices billowing out from the second floor.

  As she neared the door, peeking out into the hallway and scanning the staircase, she recognized the voices. They were the same two men she had spied on the other day.

  The threatening e-mail she had printed from Grant’s computer came to mind.

  NG.

  Who was NG? She knew he had killed Grant Conover. She knew he was affiliated with Colombia & Partners International, if not the actual owner. But she had gotten no closer to discovering the individual’s real name.

  Kate wasn’t naïve to the fact she was in danger, being alone with them here. She was certain the attack on Scott had been meant to disable her, but that didn’t mean the men upstairs wouldn’t try to kill her if given the chance.

  She reached for her cell phone, then remembered Scott’s warning. Trust no one. She couldn’t call the police, so she rushed to her tool kit and grabbed the biggest screwdriver she could find to arm herself.

  This was about to be a terrible idea.

  Regardless, she confidently strode into the hallway and began stomping up the stairs, holding her screwdriver like a machete, and as she rounded the landing, the two men startled, their jaws dropping.

  “Who is NG?” she demanded, raising the screwdriver over her head.”

  “Mrs. Fix It?”

  “Tell me!” She rushed at them, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Officer Garrison aiming his gun at the men.

  “Kate, stop! I’ve got this under control!”

  Alarmed, her mind racing for how Garrison could’ve gotten inside the building, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Justina asked me to check on the place. Clear out any intruders.”

  With Garrison standing behind them, the men locked eyes with Kate and their expressions told her that something was off. But she reasoned that their silent reactions only made them appear scared because they had been caught.

  “Would you get the door?” he asked. Then he shouted to the men, “Hands on your heads!”

  Kate rushed down the stairs and held the entrance door open for the men to pass through, Garrison’s gun pressed to the second one’s back.

  “You okay?” asked Garrison when he reached the door. Kate sighed and he smirked. “You were going to take two men down armed only with a screwdriver?”

  “I’ve done crazier things,” she said dryly.

  He let out a breathy laugh then asked, “Who is NG?”

  She froze. Was he asking out of genuine concern and curiosity, or for darker reasons? If Scott didn’t trust any of his men, Kate knew she couldn’t either.

  “I really don’t know. That’s why I was asking.”

  “How did you know to ask about the initials, though?”

  Initials...she latched on to the detail, but quickly offered, “You know Rock Ridge. Rumors, rumors, and more rumors.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, but let it go, his expression lifting into a smile as he told her to have a good rest of her day.

  Kate watched from the doorway as Ga
rrison hauled the two men into the back of his squad car and drove off down the street.

  Returning to the apartment unit, she wondered about the conversation that had stolen her attention. Those two men had been talking, and though it had been so quiet she hadn’t heard the content, she couldn’t understand why they would have been talking so casually if Garrison had truly been in the midst of arresting them.

  It didn’t add up.

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s great to be home!”

  Kate held the door open for Jason as he entered his house for the first time in days. He had looked exhausted when she met him at the courthouse jail to post his bail, but now that he was home it was like he’d gotten his second wind. His eyes were bright as he walked into the living room with his shoulders back and his head held high.

  Trailing behind them was Jared. He was carrying Kate’s overnight bag. Part of the deal for Jason’s release was that he would be supervised, and Kate had easily volunteered.

  “I still think you guys should stay at Mom’s,” said Jared, as he set her bag on the couch. “With all the security devices, you would be far safer.”

  Jason rolled his eyes as he bounded into the kitchen. “Who wants a beer? I want five!” He let out a booming laugh, clapped his hands together, and then began rummaging through the refrigerator.

  “Yeah, I’ll take a beer,” said his brother, quickly adding on Kate’s behalf, “Mom too.”

  “How can I say no?” She collapsed onto the couch in disbelief that it was only four o’clock. According to the way her muscles felt, it should be half past eleven, at least.

  Jason cracked the beers, handed one to his twin, and set Kate’s on the coffee table in front of her, saying, “So can we all agree that Bart Vaughn is out of his mind? What’s with those teeth?”

  “And his obsession with being on camera,” Jared supplied with a laugh. “Hey, he gets the job done.”

  Kate couldn’t argue with him. Bart had done a stellar job. Any other attorney might have taken weeks to get a hearing, and Bart had accomplished that much and then some in a matter of days.

  “How’s Scott doing?” Jason asked, concealing his concern with his beer bottle before taking a sip.

  “He’ll be okay,” said Kate.

  “He will be,” Jared assured him. “Let’s not get into a bad mood worrying. It’s great that you’re out of jail. Hey, the amusement park is opening in a few days.”

  “You’re kidding?” asked Jason. “Dean sure works fast.”

  “He has to. Half the town is waiting for him to fail and the other half needs jobs, which only the amusement park opening will afford. They’ll need people to work the admission booth, the rides, security. There’s going to be a restaurant and a bunch of food trucks. We’ll have to go to the grand opening.”

  Jason lifted the hem of his jeans, showing off his ankle monitor. “Might not be so cut and dry.”

  “You can be out until nine.”

  “But the park is on the west side of town. I’ll have to check if it’s close enough not to set off the monitor.”

  Kate spent the rest of the afternoon and evening drinking beers with her boys, as they watched a few sports games on the television that Jason had recorded. Around dinnertime, she ordered two large pizzas for delivery, and after they ate, she gave the ICU another call to check on Scott. The nurse told her it could be a few days, but gave her the good news that Scott had used the bathroom all by himself. “He can walk,” she said.

  Thank God.

  At ten, Jared hopped off of the couch and helped her collect the empty pizza boxes. After giving her a hug and bumping fists with Jason, he called it a night. Kate stood in the doorway and watched him drive off, and when she returned to the living room, Jason was turning off the TV.

  “I’m going to turn in,” he told her. “The guest room should be all set for you.”

  “Thanks, honey. I’m so relieved you’re home.”

  “Yeah,” he said, giving her a hug. “I’ll be more relieved when they catch Becky and put this whole thing to bed.”

  She would be, as well.

  Kate cracked open her third beer just as Jason shut his bedroom door. Taking a long sip, she started for the guest bedroom, which was on the opposite side of the living room as her son’s room.

  She flipped on the light and scanned the room, feeling slightly unnerved that Becky had decorated the space. The bedroom had a feminine touch to it. What would her life be like had Becky gone through with the wedding? Why had Becky even needed to rope Jason into her life, if she had been involved with Colombia & Partners from the beginning? Kate reasoned that the young woman had needed a cover in order to get away with her criminal acts. But it didn’t quell her agitation. Some people were just downright diabolical.

  Setting her beer bottle on the nightstand, she realized she should use the bathroom, brush her teeth, maybe take a quick shower before bed. She started down the hall, but before she reached the bathroom, Jason’s home office caught her eye.

  She hadn’t been in this house since right after Becky had disappeared. Back when she was questioning Jason’s involvement with the crimes that had been unfolding throughout Rock Ridge, it had crossed her mind to check his office out. She cringed at the fact she had suspected her son, but things had been very confusing back then.

  Edging into his study, she swiped her hand on the wall in search of the light switch. The overheads popped on and she gasped. The wall was covered in photos and notecards, red string tacked from one handwritten detail to the next. As she neared what appeared to be Jason’s research, which he had compiled in his hunt to find Becky, the sheer volume of information astonished Kate.

  Under each photo, depicting faces she seldom recognized, Jason had written the individual’s name, which gave her an idea. Quickly, she began scanning for NG.

  As her gaze traveled over one notecard after the next, she mumbled the names out loud.

  “Susan O’Malley, Gillian O’Reilly, Curt Foster...” Many she had never heard of, and according to Jason’s notes, it seemed he had investigated them but decided they were not suspicious. She moved along the wall then realized several police officers were clustered on a bulletin board propped against the wall. She crouched, reviewing their photos and names, but startled when she heard pounding coming from the front door.

  When she reached the front door, she cursed that there wasn’t a peephole. It was late and she couldn’t imagine who was out there, unless Jared had forgotten something. If he had, however, he would’ve texted or called.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Garrison! Just wanted to check on everyone. Scott’s orders.”

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob, unsure.

  Considering Scott’s warning, there was no way he’d order any of his officers to check on Kate and Jason. As uneasy as she was, she unlocked the door and drew it inward.

  “We’re fine.”

  “Jason all tucked in?” he asked in a friendly manner, which, for some reason, made her blood run cold.

  “He is. I’m about to do the same. It’s rather late, wouldn’t you say?”

  Garrison laughed good-naturedly. “I thought I gave you a scare earlier today when I arrested those two trespassers.”

  “Not to worry,” she told him, edging the door to give him the hint she would have to talk to him another time. “I’m sure Justina appreciated it.”

  “Kate,” he said, catching the door with his palm. “I know I don’t have to tell you that time is of the essence.... Everyone knows you’re one hell of an investigator. Any progress on NG?”

  She felt the color rush out of her cheeks, and in an unsteady voice, said, “It was just a rumor and a bad one at that.”

  “I know you, Kate. It wasn’t just a rumor. I can tell by the look on your face.”

  “It’s late.”

  His eyes darkened and his pleasant demeanor was quickly replaced with a look of bottled frustration. After a t
ense moment, he managed to relax, offering her a brittle smile, and said, “You have a good night, now.”

  “I certainly will.”

  The second she closed the door, her thumb twisted the lock and she let out a rocky breath, after which she rushed into the living room and dialed Justina’s cell phone.

  But the call went through to voice mail.

  “Justina, hi, I know it’s late,” she said urgently. “I need you to call me as soon as you get this message. I need to know if you called the precinct to have an officer stop in at the apartment building today. Please. Call me back.”

  Chapter Nine

  The sun was setting behind the amusement park as Kate helped Scott out of the passenger’s seat of her truck. The sky held the loveliest colors—tangerine, rose, lavender—all melting into dusk. The countless rides were adorned with twinkling lights. Somewhere the chimes of carnival music played. But when Kate glanced up at the translucent moon, she felt a drop of rain.

  Scott used a cane, as they walked slowly towards the amusement park entrance. When they reached the back of the line, Jason and Jared jogged over.

  “Hey,” said Jared out of breath. He strained to see the admissions booth at the front of the line. “Looks like this place is going to be a hit.”

  Jason jabbed his shoulder and told him, “Fat chance,” which Jared immediately mocked, pointing out that the expression hadn’t been in good taste since the nineties.

  “How’s the leg?” Kate asked Scott quietly.

  “I think I’m going to be one of those grumpy old men who can predict the weather based on how badly his bones are aching.”

  “Your bones are aching?”

  “My hip.” He peered up at the sky. “It’s going to rain.”

  She was afraid of that, but not more so than the text message she had received from Justina that morning.

  After two days of waiting on pins and needles for the real-estate agent’s reply, Kate had discovered her cell phone flashing with a missed call. Before she could open it, she saw that a text message had also come through.