Assignment Denver: The Case of the Eccentric Heiress: Jae Lovejoy Cozy Mystery One (Jae Lovejoy Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by Lucey Phillips

  I started walking back toward the lager house to tell Colin. If Mary would kill Bunny trying to get that gold watch back, she’d break into Pat’s house for it too. That had to be her who set off his alarm. She knew he wouldn’t be home—Bunny’s funeral was well publicized.

  I stopped short of the lager house’s front door. There was another call I needed to make.

  I dialed the Denver Police Department and asked for Detective Chamberlain’s extension.

  A man answered. “Burton,” he said.

  “Oh I’m sorry, um, I was trying to get Detective Chamberlain?”

  “She stepped out. This is her partner.”

  “Oh good, then you know about the Bunny Malone case. Maybe you can help me, this is Jae Lovejoy, I’m …”

  “Are you that Tinkerbell reporter who’s been harassing everyone?”

  “Uh,” a nervous laugh escaped while I tried to figure out how to respond. My thoughts were whirling in my mind and I had no energy to devote to responding to Burton’s insult. “Sure, yeah. Anyway, I’m really worried you have the wrong guy and that Pat Malone could be in trouble.”

  “Oh you’re worried? That’s too bad,” he said in a sing-song mocking tone.

  “Mary Pettigrew was in Mission Key the day Bunny was killed. She has a motive, too. She thinks Bunny ripped her family off to the tune of fourteen grand.”

  Burton snorted. “She probably did. The old lady ripped a lot of people off. Just like her parents.”

  “Yeah. Anyway. I think Mary did it, and she might be going after Pat.”

  “Grubler had the lanyard and we just got back the forensics report,” Burton said. “His prints are all over it.”

  “Mary was in the saloon that day. She could have easily planted it in Gus’s office,” I said. “Didn’t you get an anonymous tip about it being there? That was Mary, I know it.”

  “Okay, Tinkerbell. Whatever you say,” Burton said. “Are we done here?”

  I could feel tears of frustration and anger begin to well in my eyes.

  “Please, is Detective Chamberlain there? Can you just let me talk to her?” I never imagined I’d be begging to talk with Chamberlain, but she showed at least some capacity to be reasonable.

  “I’ll give her the message,” Burton said.

  Next I heard silence, followed by two beeps telling me the call had been disconnected.

  If the police weren’t going to help, I at least needed to warn Pat. I couldn’t get on an airplane leaving Colorado until I’d talked to at least one person who would take me seriously.

  My eyes were burning now. I rubbed them as I scrolled through my phone, looking for Pat’s number. But I couldn’t find it. Maybe Colin would know what to do.

  I ran into the lager house. He and Robyn were laughing about something, but his smile disintegrated when he saw my face.

  “What happened?” he asked. “Is it your mom? Is everything okay?”

  “Um, yeah, she’s okay. Well, you know, not exactly okay, but…” I shook my head, trying to organize a thought. “No, my mom isn’t the issue—I think Mary Pettigrew killed Bunny and she’s probably who broke into Pat’s house today.”

  Colin frowned. “You think? Should we tell the police?”

  “I tried. This detective guy just blew me off. He called me Tinkerbell.”

  Colin looked down, hiding a smile.

  “Shut up,” I said as I smiled, too. “I at least have to get ahold of Pat. I know he’s got that watch.”

  “What watch?”

  I pressed my palms into my cheeks as I restrained an eye roll and a moan of frustration. “Mary filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau saying that Bunny bought a pocket watch from Mary’s stepbrother. It was a family heirloom worth like fourteen grand. Bunny only gave the guy five hundred for it. Mary tried to buy it back. She basically stalked Bunny over the watch.”

  “Oh.” Colin’s voice was soft.

  “I bet she was in Bunny’s shop, arguing about the watch, and things got out of hand. You know, like she grabbed for the lanyard, or yanked on it. Bunny fell, hit her head.”

  I watched him as understanding took over his expression. My phone rang.

  “It’s Quinn,” I said while I pressed the “accept” button.

  “Jae, I found the service records,” Quinn said. Her voice had a tone of seriousness that I’d never heard from her before.

  “Gus Grubler called Entermusement the day before Bunny was murdered,” Quinn said. “It looks like there was a minor power surge that bumped the machines offline. Gus couldn’t get them running again, so he called Entermusement to reset them.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Mary’s alibi is totally made up.”

  “Yep,” Quinn said. “The service report says the machines were down when the tech arrived and didn’t go back online until hours after you found Bunny’s body.”

  “But Mary was hanging out here, at the lager house, after the press conference. Then she went to the saloon. Why would someone hang around the neighborhood where they’d just committed murder?”

  While I waited for Quinn to respond, I gazed blankly at Robyn and Colin, who were watching me, their eyes wide. Then Quinn answered my question.

  “To get rid of the murder weapon? To plant it on Gus?” she said.

  “That could be it,” I said. “I just told the police I think Mary must have been the anonymous tipster who told them Gus had the lanyard. She could have snuck down to his office from the slot machine room any time after the murder. Maybe she knew that Gus and Bunny were seeing each other again.”

  “What a vindictive nutcase,” Quinn said. “She didn’t care about framing an innocent man. But why wouldn’t she just let Mitch take the fall?”

  “Maybe she knew the evidence was flimsy. I don’t know,” I said. “I’m worried about Pat. Mary wants that watch so badly, I think she might do something to Pat, too, to get the watch back.”

  “I’ll find his phone number for you. Call you back,” Quinn said before hanging up.

  She called me back almost immediately with a phone number for Pat, but when I tried it, there was no answer and no voice mail.

  I tried to sit at the bar and join the conversation, but I couldn’t sit still. I also could barely concentrate enough to follow the banter between Mitch and Autumn. I could feel Colin watching me quietly while Robyn tried to talk me into eating a sandwich.

  Finally, I hopped down from my stool.

  “I’m just going to run out there really quick,” I said as I held out my hand for Colin to give me the car key.

  “What?” Colin asked as he stood and began taking the key out of his pocket.

  “I’m going to Pat’s house—just for a minute. Maybe he’s home or maybe I can leave him a note or something.”

  Colin narrowed his eyes. “Really?”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Mary stalked Bunny, right? Well, she’s probably stalking Pat now. If I go up there and I see her, or I see her car, I can tell Chamberlain—she’ll have to check it out.”

  He started to hand me the key but then pulled it away.

  “I think I should go with you,” he said. “Spruce Bluff wasn’t the easiest place to find.”

  I shook my head. “No way. You stay here. You’re having fun.”

  Colin clenched the key tightly in his fist.

  “Nope. This is a two-man job,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he smirked at me.

  We said another round of goodbyes that, of course, included some tears from Autumn after she hugged Colin furiously.

  | Eighteen

  When we got in the car, I put on my seat belt and situated my hands in my lap, willing myself not to get motion sick this time.

  “You could have stayed,” I said.

  Colin shrugged. “I was ready to move on anyway.”

  “Autumn sure was devastated to see you go,” I said with a giggle.

  He looked at me with just a hint of a smile. Maybe he was trying to tell me the feeling wasn’t
mutual, but didn’t want to say it out loud.

  “Did Mitch get your phone number?” he asked.

  “He has my work email.”

  Colin rolled his eyes. “I mean for non-work purposes. He’s been into you since day one.”

  “What? No.”

  He laughed. “Okay. If you say so.”

  His tone had a teasing, sing-song quality.

  “Mitch Evans is not my type,” I said.

  I turned to look out the side window and muttered, “no way.”

  “Well, then who is your type?” Colin asked.

  “My type is sturdy, but flexible and can accommodate my entire life. Also, it has one handle and two wheels.”

  “Ha ha,” he said sarcastically. “That’s your suitcase.”

  “Bingo.”

  Colin shook his head.

  “Don’t give me that,” I said. “You’re in a serious committed relationship with your camera, and you know it.”

  He smiled. “You have to admit, she and I do make beautiful babies.”

  I started to laugh, then stopped abruptly when a lump formed in my throat as Colin turned the car into Spruce Bluff. I craned my neck in the direction of Pat’s building. Colin was driving excruciatingly slowly.

  “We’re trying to look for the stalker, not be stalkers,” I whispered. “Drive normal.”

  “Why are you whispering? We’re in a locked car with the windows rolled up.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said, at a normal volume this time. “Just nerves, I guess.”

  We circled the lot in front of Pat’s building.

  “Do you see her car?” Colin asked.

  “I don’t know what kind of car she drives,” I said. “I’m just looking for Mary sitting in a car, being stalkerey.”

  He laughed. “Stalkery?”

  I giggled. “You know what I mean.”

  Because it was a weekday afternoon, the parking lot was only about a third full. There were no people sitting in any of the cars.

  “She’s not here,” Colin said as we cruised around the lot slowly. “Do you feel better that we checked?”

  I sighed again and rubbed my eyes. This trip was wearing me out.

  “Not really,” I said. “The killer is free and an innocent man is getting charged with murder.”

  “You tipped off the cops, Jae. That’s all you can do,” he said. “You’re not responsible for everyone.”

  “You know what I just realized? Pat is going to profit from his own burglary if he doesn’t get caught. He’s going to sell the things he stole. Then the insurance company will reimburse Bunny’s estate for those things and Pat will inherit that money too.”

  “Did you tell Chamberlain you think Pat’s the burglar?”

  “Quinn was going to send in an anonymous tip. She found a bunch of stuff he’s selling online under a secret IP address.”

  Colin shook his head. “She’s good.”

  “No kidding,” I said, while I stared up at Pat’s condo. “I’d be lost without her.”

  A faint shadow moved between the curtains in Pat’s front window.

  “Hey, I think he’s home,” I said.

  “Really?” Colin asked. “You think they’re done with the burial and the wake already?”

  “Someone’s in there,” I said. “Or maybe I just saw his cat or something. I’m going to knock on the door. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  I hopped out of the car and slammed the door before Colin could respond. Maybe that shadow I thought I’d seen was just my imagination. While I climbed the wooden steps to Pat’s front door, I reached into my messenger back for a pen and notebook. If I couldn’t talk to Pat, at least I could leave him a note asking him to call me so I could explain that Mary might be looking for him—and her intentions weren’t good.

  I knocked on the door and listened for footsteps or shuffling—any sound that Pat might be inside. There was nothing.

  I opened my notepad and stared down at it, wondering what I could possibly write that would alert Pat without making me look like some sort of paranoid weirdo.

  I managed to write, “Hi, Mr. Malone,” before the door swung open and I felt a wrenching force pulling against my neck.

  My head jerked back as my body lurched forward, toward the floor of the condo. I landed hard on my hands and knees. I was face-level with an ugly, maroon, floor-length floral skirt.

  I looked up. Mary Pettigrew stood over me. While I’d been distracted writing the note, she had opened the door, grabbed the strap on my messenger bag, and jerked me inside Pat’s condo.

  A breeze rushed past me as Mary slammed the door behind us.

  I pulled on the doorknob for leverage while I tried to stand. Mary knocked my hand away.

  “Stop it,” I said. It was a dumb thing to say, I guess, but the words just popped out of me instinctively. I couldn’t believe how powerful she was.

  “Shut up,” Mary said. She raised a gun, a revolver, and pointed it at me. It looked heavy and unwieldy as it shook with her trembling hand.

  The gun’s metal was tarnished. Just as I realized it was an antique—of course Mary Pettigrew would use an antique weapon—she pulled the hammer back.

  I raised my palms toward Mary and whispered, “Easy.”

  Mary’s fingers clenched tightly around the revolver. Then the cold scowl on her face twisted into a shocked expression as she looked down at the revolver.

  Mary was trying to pull the trigger, but it was stuck. This was my chance. I stood and reached for the doorknob. But before I could open the door and run, I felt the revolver handle land solidly on the back of my head, knocking me to my knees. I slumped forward, my cheek coming to rest against the door.

  My eyelids felt heavy and the room started to grow dark. But I was jolted back to alertness when a pounding noise came from the other side of the door.

  “Jae? Jae!”

  “Colin?” I tried to yell, but I was weak from the head injury. My voice sounded muffled and far away.

  “Jae! Open the door!”

  “Colin,” I whispered as I reached toward the doorknob again.

  I cringed, expecting another blow from Mary, but it never came.

  After I turned the knob, Colin pushed his way inside, knocking the door into me in the process.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Mary kind of kicked my ass though.”

  Colin helped me up by supporting one arm while I rubbed the back of my head with my free hand. A lump was already starting to form there, but I didn’t seem to be bleeding.

  “Where’d Mary go?” I asked Colin as he helped me toward the door.

  A thin, cold voice answered me.

  “She went to reload,” Mary said as she appeared from around the corner.

  She held the revolver straight out in front of herself. Mary’s hand still trembled, though not as wildly now.

  “Get over on the couch. And give me your bag,” Mary said, flipping the gun from side to side.

  “Okay,” Colin said softly.

  He helped me pull the cross-body bag strap over my head and held it out toward Mary.

  As she watched us, the expression on Mary’s face seemed to turn to regret. Then she shook her head wildly, her ropey gray hair whipping across her face.

  “I’m not—I just want my dad’s watch,” she stammered. “I’m just trying to fix what Bunny did. My brother has problems, with pills. And she took advantage of him. It wasn’t right. All I want is my watch back.”

  “Okay,” Colin said. “We understand. Do you want us to help you?”

  Mary was pacing now, back and forth across Pat’s living room.

  “Just—no—just be quiet,” she said.

  Watching Mary’s frantic pacing was making me dizzy. I was still trying to shake off the fog that encompassed my brain ever since she hit me.

  I gazed around the room. It was trashed. Pictures had been pulled off the walls, their frames taken apart. Cushions and pillows had been ripped apart, wi
th clumps of yellow and white stuffing tossed on the floor. To my right, in the kitchen and dining area, drawers had been pulled out, their contents spilled onto the floor, and tossed aside.

  Mary must have been here all day tearing this condo apart, trying to find the watch. Maybe she’d set off the alarm when she broke in, then hid in a closet or shower while the police officer and building manager checked the condo.

  Mary began muttering softly while she paced. I couldn’t understand anything she was saying.

  I looked desperately at Colin, wishing I hadn’t gotten us into this. And wishing I’d been more brave. How had I let Mary clobber me like that? I was younger than her. I should be stronger.

  While Mary continued to pace and talk to herself, Colin nudged my side with his elbow.

  I looked at him.

  He widened his eyes and tiled his forehead toward the end of the couch, on my other side.

  I wrinkled my nose and looked at him. What did he want?

  He glared and nodded again at something beside me. This time I followed his gaze and realized what he was trying to tell me.

  A white telephone sat on an end table. It was just out of my reach.

  I scooted a few inches away from Colin, toward the phone, hoping Mary wouldn’t notice.

  She continued pacing without looking up.

  I moved closer to the telephone as I glanced back at Colin. He gave me a reassuring nod.

  I waited a beat, until Mary’s pacing pointed her away from me, and quickly picked up the phone, moving it just a few inches so it was off the hook. I could hear the soft hum of the dial tone.

  Mary turned back in my direction, still muttering, her gaze fixed on the floor a few feet ahead of her. I quickly folded my arms across my chest until she turned and was again facing away from me. Then I whipped my hand back to the phone and pressed 9-1-1.

  But this time, as I brought my arm back to fold it across my chest, Mary saw me.

  “What are you doing?” she yelled.

  She stomped toward the phone, yanked it from the end table, and threw it onto the floor. I could see the frayed phone line dangling from the end of the table.

  “That’s it!” Mary said, raising the gun toward me again.

  Colin stood and took a step toward Mary. I followed him, determined not to cower from Mary again.