Dickens of a Death

by Ashantay Peters

  His voice held no heat and neither did my response. “Ginger thinks she and her mom are the number one suspects. I told her you’d find the real bad guys.” I figured I’d follow up the flattery with a sneaky question about the victim.

  “You know, like whoever stands to gain from Shorter’s death could be the real murderer.” I massaged his ear lobe with two fingers. “I know you’ll look to his heirs.” More flattery, another sneaky question, and he might tell me something important. “Have you seen his will? Maybe he’s got a sibling in hock to the mob.”

  His hands framed my face. “Katie, let’s not fight about this, but you know I can’t talk about an open case.”

  “This isn’t an open case. It’s Ginger. My best friend.” My voice wobbled on the last words. I dropped my hands to my lap. “She and Patricia are my only family.”

  He stiffened. Crap. Once again I’d said the wrong thing.

  “You’re important to me too.” I caught his gaze. “What we have is different. I didn’t grow up with you.”

  We exchanged a long look while I held my breath. He shook his head.

  “How do you think I feel, Katie? My woman’s friend and her mother involved in murder?” He shook his head again. “My partner tied in knots because he’s got to stay neutral and look at all the evidence?” He blew out a breath. “I should take myself off this case, but there’s no one else.”

  “No one else? But I thought there were four of you trained in homicide.”

  “Eddie Byrd is on leave. Returns a week from tomorrow. His partner is the mayor’s nephew, Nathan Anderson. If Matt steps away from the case this week, I’ll be stuck with the jerk.”

  Matt considered walking away? My anger stirred. “Have Ginger and Matt dated and you didn’t tell me?”

  He shook his head. “He’s got strong feelings, though.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Well, he can just stuff those feelings for now. Ginger needs him on this case. You did it with me and the dead yoga dude. So can Matt.”

  I knew I was right. After all, that’s how Dirk and I had met. I’d been a suspect in a murder investigation, and Dirk had been professional with me until the real criminal was arrested. Well, remembering his covert kisses, maybe there’d been a small lapse or two, but otherwise, he’d remained neutral.

  “Yeah. We’ll stay on the investigation as long as possible.”

  His muscles remained tense under my hands. My stomach twisted into knots. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “I’ve never been a favorite at City Hall. You know that.”

  Plus I hadn’t helped him when I insulted the mayor’s wife. “Yeah, I know.”

  He swallowed. Then his gaze burned into mine. “I hate this.”

  The car’s interior remained comfortable, but my hands and feet turned icy. I didn’t want to hear what I suspected would come next.

  “Matt and I will investigate this murder as thoroughly as any other. We’ll follow all leads, dig into every aspect of Shorter’s life.”

  I nodded when I really wanted to clap my hand over his mouth to prevent his speech.

  “The best way to ensure Ginger and her mother get a fair shake is for us, all of us, to cut personal ties until the case is closed.”

  I closed my eyes against the tears burning to fall. My dry throat would have made a camel flinch.

  Dirk framed my face with his hands. His forehead touched mine. “I really hate this.”

  I knew he hadn’t meant his job. Dirk loved catching crooks and keeping people safe. What he hated was leaving me alone. I shared that emotion, so I gave an argument my best shot.

  “I don’t see why we have to split up. This is a small town. If people aren’t related, they’ve known each other all their lives. Cops use that knowledge to uphold the law, right? It’s not like you’ll withhold evidence. You moved here less than two years ago. As an outsider, you’re the perfect person to investigate.”

  He pulled away. “You know better. The Winslows are rich. They have both powerful enemies and friends. They’re close with my live-in girlfriend. I don’t want anyone suggesting justice was subverted for that family or anyone else. Not on my watch.”

  Dirk rubbed the back of his neck. “This is just the fricking political minefield I hate.” He exhaled. “But if I don’t suck it up, the investigation will get screwed ten ways to Sunday.”

  I knew all that, and my whining just made it worse for him. So why wouldn’t I capitulate? Probably because I was afraid once we split, even for an ethical reason, it may be for good. Out of sight, right?

  “Katie, the mayor wants his nephew included on the case. The chief won’t fight him. I don’t—we don’t have a choice.” He sighed. “He’s already mentioned you. I told him we were on the outs.”

  Perhaps my fears were on target.

  “He gave me the eye, but I think he believed me. For now.”

  “Does he know Matt has the hots for Ginger?”

  He shook his head. “Matt hasn’t, wouldn’t, act on those feelings before. I think he’d hoped to get closer now that Ginger is separated.”

  I knew Matt. He’d maintain his distance, now more than ever.

  Dirk drew me closer. “We only need to separate until I catch the asshole. We can keep in touch by phone, as we already do.”

  His lips moved over my face and neck in soft kisses. “I love you, you know that, right?”

  I felt sick at my stomach. My vision blurred until I blinked back the tears. Girlie stuff sucks, but I’m not afraid to tell the truth.

  “I love you, too.”

  He wiped away the stray tears. Our lips met and clung.

  My fingers rubbed across his full lips. “Can we have one more night? Chalk it up to my wanting make-up sex and say it didn’t work?”

  “I should kick myself in the ass but—” He nodded.

  I smiled. “So let’s get going. We have a big night ahead. I’ve gotta get my fill of you if we have to sleep alone until you nab the crook.” I shook my finger in his face. “You’d better be quick about cracking this case.”

  “Honey, you have no idea.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ginger and I rapped at the Chocolate Fix’s door the next afternoon. Mona usually closed the Monday after Dickens Day to relax as much as any storeowner can and remain solvent. That meant she’d be restocking shelves and making fresh truffles.

  She came from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her chocolate-stained apron as she walked. Mona looks, acts, and moves much younger than her years. She’s alluded to having been a hippie, so we calculated her age as late fifties, early sixties. Her clear complexion, bright-eyed observations, and full stride made me a believer in the anti-aging properties of chocolate and coffee.

  Mona opened the door and ushered us in. “I hope you’re not here for your weekly dose of truffles. If I hadn’t worked double time the last few weeks, I’d be totally sold out. As it is, I’m out of your favorites.”

  “You know I get high just walking in the door,” I said. “Actually, we’re here to make you take a break while telling us what you’ve heard about Little Dick.”

  Ginger looked at the chairs resting upside down on the tables. “Do you need help with anything?”

  “The floor is dry, so let’s get these chairs arranged, then we can sit for a few minutes.”

  It didn’t take long to put the place to rights with three of us working together.

  Mona settled into her chair with a sigh. “Next year I’m hiring more help.” She pointed her finger at Ginger. “You can’t have Katie again. I’m calling dibs right now.”

  “Forget it. I’m going skiing.”

  Mona turned, her finger pointing toward me. “With or without Cop Sexy?”

  I used two fingers to push my mouth shut. “You’re closed. How did you hear about us already?”

  She pushed her hair back, exposing a Bluetooth hooked over her ear. “Figured I should join the new century and stay connected. Plus, this little do
ohickey helps when I’ve got my hands full.”

  “But...didn’t you once say that cell phones are used to track people? That they aren’t healthy?”

  She shrugged. “I only put it on here at the store when I’m in the kitchen.” Mona leaned forward. “I use the technology, it doesn’t use me.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now, where were we?” Her eyes narrowed as she regarded me. “What’s this I hear about you and Cop Sexy breaking it off?”

  Ginger grabbed my arm. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

  I hadn’t said anything to Ginger, because I didn’t want her thinking the break had anything to do with her and Patricia. Which it did. I just didn’t want her thinking that way.

  “It’s nothing.” I shrugged, nonchalant. “My house is sitting there empty, and that’s not smart in the winter. Pipes could break, and I’d never know. Moving back home had always been in the cards.”

  Ginger removed her hand and crossed her arms. “And moving just happened to take place after a murder implicating my family.” She exhaled but it sounded more like an accusation. “I should have known.”

  Unsure if Ginger meant she should have figured it out on her own or that I should have told her, I turned to Mona.

  “So who told you and how long ago?” I needed to know so I could attempt damage control.

  Mona waved her hand in a way that told me she’d gotten the news from multiple sources. “This morning.”

  That damned Madeline Rose. Had to have been her wicked tongue. I wanted to tell Mona to spread the story that Dirk and I were still together when I remembered I couldn’t make that move.

  “Not a big deal. Let’s talk about something important, Mona. Like, have you heard anything about Little Dick?” I turned toward Ginger. “That’s what he was, and I’m not pulling punches just because he’s dead.”

  Mona pushed her hair back before meeting my gaze. “You know better than I do why Mayor Rose hates the Winslow family.” She placed her hand on Ginger’s arm and patted. “I believe he won’t manufacture evidence, but wouldn’t be shy about pushing the investigators to find anything that will point the way he wants.”

  Ginger sat hunched, not responding to Mona’s touch or words.

  She gave Ginger’s arm a final pat and leaned back. “With the mayor’s nephew in the department, it’s important that Dirk and Matt don’t get kicked off the investigation.”

  “That’s why you didn’t tell me,” Ginger said.

  I nodded.

  “Any why Matt didn’t call, um, I mean—”

  Mona smiled. “Honey, everyone in town knows Matt has the hots for you. Has had for months. They also know neither of you have made a move.” She shook her head. “Don’t know why not. Life’s too damn short. Glad I had some fun at Woodstock.”

  I felt my eyes widen and filed away another clue to Mona’s past.

  “Anyway,” Mona continued. “You two need to watch your backs.”

  Her tone made me straighten. “Why?”

  “Because Mr. Bling returned this morning, knocking on Shorter’s door.”

  “Did you get his license plate number? Car make and model?”

  She nodded. “And already gave it to Dirk, who told me if I shared this information with you, he’d release rats in my kitchen and call the health inspector.”

  My temper simmered. “He what?”

  She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Not to worry. He didn’t mean what he said. Besides, I can keep my promise to him and still help you. I’m sure someone else saw the luxury sedan besides me.”

  That’s what I love about Mona. She’s almost as unscrupulous as I am.

  Mona cleared her throat. “Mr. Bling had someone else with him today. And I think I recognized the guy from Chesterfield.”

  Chesterfield is the next biggest town in our area and had more moneyed folks than Granville Falls. That says something too.

  Her grin couldn’t get any closer to a Cheshire cat’s. Milking gossip had to be an inherited trait of every female born here. And obtained by osmosis for women who’d moved to town.

  I bounced in my seat. “Come on, come on. Spill it already.”

  “Jansen Buchanan.”

  I heard Ginger gasp, or maybe myself. “Buchanan? Oh, cripers.”

  The man had a reputation not only as the premier estate attorney in the area, but as a collector of Americana. Expensive Americana rather than the kitchy stuff I like. Buchanan’s interest wasn’t limited to that area though. He’d been referred to as a Renaissance man in a newspaper feature I’d read. Money, both inherited and earned, allowed him plenty of leisure time to pursue his many interests now that he was semi-retired.

  “What would he have in common with Richard Shorter?” Ginger shook her head. “Buchanan can afford to buy direct from the big antique markets.” She tapped a finger against her lips. “Unless Richard had uncovered a special item. Mom said Shorter had some amazing contacts.”

  “Yeah, like forgers.” Shoot. As if Ginger needed a reminder that her mother had been cheated by the dead man.

  Luckily, she took my comment and ran with it. “Forgers. I wonder if Richard had tried cheating Jansen Buchanan?” She grasped Mona’s hand. “How big did you say Mr. Bling was? Physically?”

  Mona held her hands out at her sides.

  “Now why would a legitimate estate attorney need a bulky chauffeur? Or is he a bodyguard?”

  “Good question.”

  We pondered the implications for a moment.

  Mona broke the silence. “Well, sorry to break up this little confab, but I’ve got chocolates to make.”

  We left with new answers but more questions.

  A weak winter sun moved from behind clouds as we stood outside the Chocolate Fix. “Eddie Byrd returns next Monday. That doesn’t leave us much time to help Dirk and Matt with clues.”

  “Katie, you’re always helping me out of jams. You should walk away this time. Besides, don’t you have work at Get Solid Builders sometime today?”

  I snorted. “Right. Like you’ve never come to my rescue.” Over a quarter-century of friendship, I’d lost track of the times Ginger had saved my butt. “Besides, I took today and tomorrow off. I know you and Patricia are innocent.”

  “We know Mom and I are innocent, but I picked up what Mona wasn’t saying. Gossip central is working overtime and will have my mom in jail before the day is over.”

  “Ginger, stop that line of thought right now. I will bet you that this antiques thing is at the bottom of the story. Your mom got suckered, but she didn’t kill Shorter.”

  “Katie, she’s a master gardener. She’d know about plant toxins.”

  “Yeah, and anyone with Internet access could get that info. We have to prove she has no way or knowledge of extracting poisons.”

  Ginger paled. “She holds a bachelor’s degree in biology, emphasis on botany. She never held a scientific job, but still.”

  “Oh.” I regrouped. “Then we look for someone else who has the same knowledge with a grudge against Shorter. How hard can that be? Half the merchants in town wanted him dead if the grumbling I heard was correct.”

  “Wanting and acting are two different things.”

  I ignored her clarification. “Then there’s Jansen Buchanan and his Mr. Ring Bling. Madeline Rose, another master gardener, right? Along with your mom’s insurance agent’s wife. Little Dick cast his net and women spread their legs.” I exaggerated a shiver. “Why? I mean he wasn’t all that handsome.”

  “I expect he showed lonely women attention. Sometimes that’s enough.”

  Ginger wasn’t talking only about the females Shorter had snagged.

  “Separating from Rob was for the best. You said it yourself.”

  She dropped her chin. “I know. I just can’t help sympathizing.”

  “Well, stop. We have clues to uncover and little time to accomplish the task.”

  She raised her head and straightened her spine. “You’re right. Where should we start?�
�

  “Well, hmm. Want to check out the holiday decorations in Chesterfield?”

  “Not really.” She sighed. “Someone has to do it, right?”

  “We can have lunch, walk around the downtown shops. Maybe see if the antique store owners have heard anything.”

  “Oh, and they’ll talk with us, why?”

  “Because I have a positive attitude, Miss Droopy Face. All we need is a hint of a clue. Matt and Dirk will follow through to get more information.”

  She manufactured a smile. We’d been friends too long for me not to recognize a fake expression.

  “Of course, sorry,” Ginger said. “I’d like to compare Chesterfield’s decorations to ours. Let’s go.”

  “Too late today. As long as I took tomorrow off, let’s head out in the morning. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  Chapter Eight

  Chesterfield’s main square consisted of four blocks jammed with narrow brick-faced stores. A small park dominated the center of the square, with diagonal paths leading to a Civil War monument. One holiday wreath had been laid at the foot of the statue, a bronze soldier holding a sword aloft while seated on a rearing horse. Old oaks stood sentry over empty benches and flowerbeds boasting multi-colored pansies. So far, the town’s holiday decorations hadn’t bowled me over.

  We saw more hints of holiday color as we approached the shops. Mistletoe and holly-shaped flags fluttered from imitation gas streetlamps. Many store owners had yule-inspired window displays, and twinkle light wrapped trees. Fresh fruit wreaths with gold-painted magnolia leaves hung in more than one transom window. No tinny holiday music or shaggy Santa ringing an ear-splitting bell on the corner. Tasteful, understated, rich.

  The enormity of our errand hit me. Who’d want to talk with us? This could be a fool’s mission, but not for lack of trying. If nothing else, we’d have a nice lunch.

  “Where do you want to start?”

  Ginger shook her head. “We’re standing in front of an antique store. May as well begin here.”

  We walked in to the type of store I hate. Expensive breakable stuff sitting on the edge of shelves, just waiting for my elbow. I crossed my arms, hunching my shoulders. My purse lay secure within my grasp.