Look Into My Ice (Garden Girls Christian Cozy Mystery Series Book 12)

by Hope Callaghan

  “I’ll have one waiting for you when you get here.”

  Margaret was standing in the breezeway entrance when Gloria pulled in the drive. She held the door open and waited for Gloria to hobble around the side of the car and into the house.

  The wind had picked up and the smattering of snowflakes had turned into a steady snowfall. She gazed up at the sky as she stepped inside. “The storm is getting closer.”

  Margaret nodded and closed the door behind her. “Ruth said she heard Ed Mueller was stabbed with an ice pick.”

  “An ice pick?” That would be a bloody crime scene. Maybe that was why someone had covered him with a blanket from the chin down.

  When Gloria reached the kitchen, Margaret handed her a glass of water and two aspirin. Gloria popped the aspirin in her mouth and gulped the water. She set the half-empty water glass on the counter. “Whatcha got?”

  “Well, I was thinking. Follow me.” She motioned Gloria through the kitchen toward the back of the house and to the rear patio sliders that faced the lake…Lake Terrace.

  Margaret unlocked the slider and stepped onto the snowy deck. “You can almost see Ed Mueller’s shanty from here.”

  Gloria shifted to the right and gazed out onto the frozen lake. She was right. Gloria could see the corner of the shanty. “And?”

  “Well, I was thinking. There are still a couple hours of daylight left. What if you and I kind of took a peek inside the shanty, you know, see if we can find any other clues.”

  “But how are we going to get inside? I’m sure the police have locked it up tight.”

  Margaret frowned. “It could present a problem. Is there a way to lock the shanty?”

  Gloria had no idea. She shrugged. It was worth a try. Still, the thought of making the long trek through Margaret’s backyard and across the frozen lake with crutches was less than appealing.

  “We can take the snowmobile and be there in no time flat.”

  Gloria shifted on her crutches. She would love to get a better look inside the shanty.

  Margaret could see Gloria was waffling. “We’ll take a shovel and I’ll clear around it.”

  Her friend had a well-thought out plan. If Officer Joe Nelson thought the girls were snooping around, this might be their last chance to get close to the scene of the crime.

  Gloria sucked in a breath. A little voice whispered in her ear to say “no” as Officer Stan Woszinski’s words echoed in the back of her mind…

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  ***

  Gloria waited on the deck while Margaret headed to the side of the garage to get the snowmobile.

  She gazed up at the skies as a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach told her this might not end well. For the trillionth time, she wished she had never broken her leg and she couldn’t wait for the cast to come off.

  The roar of a snowmobile engine filled the air and Margaret soon appeared. She eased the snowmobile close to the deck steps, hopped off and handed Gloria a helmet. “You’ll need to put this on.”

  Gloria slipped the helmet on her head and fastened the buckle under her chin. “You do know how to drive this, right?”

  Margaret grinned. “Of course. It has been a few years, though,” she admitted. She swung her leg over the seat and plopped down before reaching behind her and patting the back seat. “If it’s more comfortable, you can sit sideways.”

  Gloria held onto her crutches as she hopped over to the running machine and backed onto the seat.

  Margaret handed her the shovel. “You’ll have to hold this.”

  Gloria grasped the shovel, along with her crutches. She held the three of them with one hand and held onto the safety bar with the other. “I’m ready.” As I’ll ever be, she added silently, wondering how she let her friends talk her into some of the things that they did.

  Lucy with her weapons and Ruth with her surveillance equipment were bad enough, but now Margaret?

  Maybe the women needed more hobbies to keep them busy. Of course, Lucy’s gung-ho gun obsession and Ruth’s high tech surveillance equipment collection could both be considered hobbies.

  As she rode, Gloria wondered what her hobby was. Sleuthing? That, and gardening, for sure.

  Gloria had met the girls for lunch at Dot’s Restaurant right after returning from her honeymoon and all had unanimously agreed Belhaven had been boring without her. They couldn’t wait for her to come home.

  She wondered what in the world they had done before they started all of their investigations. It was hard to remember that far back.

  For years, their sleepy little town had been a safe haven. It wasn’t until a couple years ago Gloria had started keeping her doors locked. Of course, the world was a lot different place now than it used to be. The criminal element was everywhere!

  “We’re here,” Margaret announced as she came to an abrupt stop in front of Ed Mueller’s shanty.

  The door to the shanty was wide open and small snowdrifts had started to form around the doorframe and blow inside, filling the corners. Yellow police tape crisscrossed the open door.

  Gloria frowned at the accumulating snow and then down at her leg. She had covered her foot and part of her cast with a plastic bread bag to keep it dry and then pulled one of Paul’s boots over the top but she was still nervous about getting it wet.

  Margaret, noting Gloria’s anxious glance, climbed off the snowmobile and reached for the shovel. “I’ll shovel a path.”

  She placed the tip of the shovel on the ice and marched forward as she shoveled a path from the snowmobile to the open shanty door.

  Margaret returned moments later and held out a hand. “You want to just lean on me instead of trying to get across the ice on crutches?”

  There was only a short distance between the snowmobile and the open door. Gloria nodded.

  Margaret leaned forward and slipped her shoulder under Gloria’s arm, lifting her forward as Gloria put all her weight on her good leg.

  The women shuffled to the shanty and then studied the open door frame. The small wooden door was hanging from one hinge.

  Gloria squinted her eyes and studied the frame. Chunks of splintered wood hung from the frame where the lock had been. “Someone busted this door to get inside.”

  She shifted her gaze. There wasn’t much to see inside the shanty. In the far corner was a plastic five-gallon bucket. On one wall of the shanty was a small shelf. On top of the shelf was a black and white portable television.

  In another corner was a portable space heater sitting atop another bucket but the bucket wasn’t sitting flush on the ice. It tilted at an odd angle.

  Gloria glanced at the police tape, covering the door. “I think there’s something under the bucket. I wish we could see what it was.”

  Margaret lifted the shovel. “We could tip it over using this.” She didn’t wait for Gloria to reply as she slid the shovel across the smooth ice surface so that the tip was under the gap between the bucket and the ice.

  She jerked the handle up, flipping the bucket over and causing the space heater to crash onto the ice.

  Gloria’s eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be.”

  ***

  Underneath the bucket was a chain saw. “Someone used the chainsaw to cut a hole in the ice and dump Ed Mueller’s body into it.” Gloria theorized. “Andrea took a few pictures before the police made us leave the other day. As soon as we get back to your place, I’m going to give her a call.”

  Either the police had already seen the chainsaw and dismissed it as evidence or someone had just put it there. Perhaps whoever had kicked in the door?

  She glanced at the back of the Mueller cottage. The snow was coming down harder now. Soon, any tracks leading from the lake to the Mueller property would be covered with snow. “Can you drive us up to the edge of the ice?”

  She didn’t want to drive onto the property. If investigators returned and noticed fresh snowmobile tracks, they might become suspicious.

  Margaret nodded and tucke
d her shoulder under Gloria’s arm as she helped her make her way back to the snowmobile.

  Gloria settled onto the back seat as she balanced the shovel and the crutches in one hand.

  Margaret revved up the snowmobile’s engine, turned the skis and drove toward the shoreline. She stopped near the edge of the lake.

  Gloria propped the shovel against the snowmobile and positioned her crutches under each arm as she hobbled over a small pile of fresh snow and onto the back lawn.

  There were several sets of shoe and boot prints and they were heading in every direction. Investigators if Gloria had to guess.

  Margaret shifted to the left, glanced at the cottage and then back to the lake. “The shanty is straight out from here.

  Gloria made her way over to where Margaret was standing. She gazed at the shanty and then at the backside of the cottage. “Someone had to have dragged Mueller’s body onto the ice. Either that, or they killed him inside the ice shanty, but that would be kind of hard to do.”

  She was stumped. The killer’s weapon had been an ice pick but there hadn’t been any blood, at least not that she had seen. No blood inside the ice shanty. No blood inside the cottage. Which meant someone had killed Ed and brought his body onto the lake, but how?

  It was possible the killer had driven a vehicle right up to the shanty, which meant anyone and everyone could be a suspect.

  She studied the tracks carefully as she plodded toward the cottage. There were tons of prints. If the investigators had combed the property, their own tracks would cover any evidence!

  Along with boot and shoe prints, there were several straight lines in the snow, perfectly spaced. Right next to the lines were smaller prints. The prints started near the back porch door.

  Gloria followed them with her eyes. The tracks went all the way to the edge of the property and then disappeared when they reached the ice.

  “I wish I had my phone!” Gloria’s cell phone was in her purse, which was inside Margaret’s house.

  “I have mine.” Margaret pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and turned it on.

  Gloria pointed at the lines. “Can you take a couple pictures of the tracks and then text them to my phone?”

  Margaret leaned over and tapped the screen. “Got it. I sent them to you.” She looked up at the sky. “We better get going. I think the storm is about to let loose.”

  Gloria limped back to the snowmobile, brushed the coating of snow off the snowmobile seat and sat. She lowered the snowmobile helmet’s face shield and waited for Margaret to climb on.

  During the ride back to Margaret’s, Gloria mentally sifted through the list of potential killers. Could it be Sally Keane was the killer? What about Officer Joe Nelson? Maybe he was trying to cover up. Or maybe it was Ed’s wife, Sheryl.

  If Sally was telling the truth and Ed was a womanizer, Sheryl may have made a surprise trip to Belhaven to catch her husband in the act and in a fit of rage, killed him. Motive and opportunity.

  Gloria thought about the cop, who had argued with Ed Mueller the night before his body had been found. He may have been one of the last people to see Ed Mueller alive.

  Margaret squeezed the throttle and they sped across the lake. When they reached Margaret’s property, she drove across the backyard and around front, coming to a stop next to Gloria’s car.

  She slid off the sled, unbuckled her helmet and placed it on the seat.

  Gloria grinned as she removed her helmet and handed it to Margaret. “Valet parking,” she joked.

  Margaret took the helmet and the shovel. “I feel bad about dragging you out to the shanty.”

  She removed her gloves and placed them on top of the helmet. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab your purse from inside.” Gloria had left her purse on Margaret’s dining room table before heading out onto the patio.

  Margaret returned moments later. “So what do you think?” she asked as she handed Gloria her purse.

  “There are a couple things,” Gloria said as she unzipped her purse and fumbled around inside searching for her car keys. “First of all, the chain saw. I still have to have Andrea send me the pictures she took the day we saw Ed Mueller’s body submerged in the ice.”

  She went on. “Second of all, there was no blood.”

  “Not that we could see,” Margaret pointed out. “It could be whoever killed Ed, cleaned up afterward.”

  True. Surely, investigators had equipment to test for blood residue. Still, even if they had found blood inside the Mueller’s cottage or even the shanty, investigators wouldn’t divulge that information.

  “If Ed Mueller was stabbed with an ice pick, it was a crime of passion, not a premeditated murder.” Gloria climbed into her car, shoving the crutches onto the passenger seat. She shut the door, started the car and rolled down the window.

  “I’m going to take a look at the pictures Andrea took and the ones you took. Maybe I can start piecing together the events leading up to Ed’s death.”

  Margaret leaned forward. “Let me know if I can help.”

  Gloria grabbed her seatbelt and shoved the buckle into the latch. “Will do.” She shifted the car in reverse and backed out of Margaret’s driveway, her mind spinning at the new clues.

  Her gut told her the killer was lurking nearby, watching. Maybe it was time to set a trap and plan an old-fashioned stakeout...right after the snowstorm moved out!

  Chapter 16

  Gloria parked Annabelle in the garage, closing the garage door behind her. She squeezed past the car as she hobbled to the side service door and opened it.

  The snow was coming down in full force and it felt as if she had stepped into a virtual snow globe.

  The skies had finally let loose and the storm the forecasters had been predicting was finally upon them. She said a small prayer for Paul…and all her friend’s safety as she carefully inched her way across the drive and into the house.

  Mally was waiting by the door. Gloria stepped in and Mally darted out.

  She watched through the window as Mally romped in the fresh snow, and then rolled around a few times before patrolling the perimeter of the yard.

  The wooden chair near the kitchen window was the perfect spot to pull off her boots and set them in the tray. Next, she removed the rubber band that was holding the plastic bread bag in place, along with the bag and placed both inside the boot before turning her attention to dinner.

  Gloria shifted in her chair and caught a glimpse of Lucy’s yellow jeep as it pulled into the drive. She parked off to the side, hopped out of the driver’s side and then raced across the yard.

  “I wish I could do that,” Gloria muttered under her breath.

  Lucy’s red head appeared in the window of the porch door and Gloria waved her in.

  Mally, who had finished her yard inspection, led the way, shaking off her thick coat of snow when she reached the kitchen. The wet snow pelted Gloria, Lucy and even poor Puddles who had made his way into the kitchen.

  Lucy plopped down in the seat Gloria had just vacated and wiggled out of her snow boots, placing them in the plastic bin before unbuttoning her winter jacket and hanging it on the hook near the door. “I tried to call and when you didn’t answer, I started to worry. I thought maybe you fell on the ice or something.”

  “I was on my way home from Eleanor’s house when Margaret asked me to stop by. Did you hear Ed Mueller was stabbed with an ice pick?”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. What a horrible way to die.”

  She bounced over to the counter, where Gloria was pulling dishes from the cupboard. “Whatcha making? Can I help?”

  “I have an extra container of goulash Dot sent home the other day and I was going to make some homemade dinner rolls and baked potatoes to go with it.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Lucy said. “Do you want some help?”

  “Sure.” Gloria nodded. “Let’s make a deal. I let you help me and then you stay for dinner.”

  “Sounds good,” Lucy agreed.
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br />   Now that Paul and Gloria had married, Gloria felt a little guilty she wasn’t able to spend as much time with her friends, especially Lucy and Ruth, both of whom lived alone.

  Lucy and her boyfriend, Max, were still going strong. Ruth kept a tight lid on her love life but Gloria had driven by her friend’s home in recent weeks and noticed Steve Colby’s car parked in the drive on the weekends.

  Paul and Gloria were still adjusting to married life, having both lived alone for several years, but so far there had only been a couple small misunderstandings and no major blowouts.

  “I put a few potatoes in a pail on the basement steps.” The door to Gloria’s old Michigan basement was in the dining room, right next to the stairs leading to the second floor. Unlike some of the other old farms in the area, hers did not have an access door from the outside, for which Gloria was thankful.

  Lucy reappeared moments later, juggling a few potatoes and she headed to the kitchen sink.

  Lucy knew her way around Gloria’s home like the back of her hand. She reached into Gloria’s junk drawer and pulled out a potato scrubber. After she scrubbed the potatoes, she stabbed them with a fork, placed them in the microwave and turned it on.

  While Lucy worked on prepping the potatoes, Gloria placed several frozen dinner rolls on top of a baking sheet. She warmed the oven so she could pop the rolls inside for a quick rise and then settled in at the kitchen table.

  Lucy slid into the chair across from Gloria and shifted her gaze as she eyed the lemon cake on top of the fridge.

  Gloria followed her gaze. “Help yourself.”

  “Not without coffee.” Lucy popped back out of the chair and headed to the coffee pot. She placed a new coffee filter in the brew basket, added some fresh ground coffee and then water in the reservoir before plucking the lemon cake from the top of the fridge and settling back in at the table.

  Gloria sighed heavily as Lucy pulled the plastic lid off the cake. “I never knew how much I took being able to get around for granted.” She tapped the top of her cast. “I am so tired of this thing,” she griped.