04 Cold Case and Cupcakes

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04 Cold Case and Cupcakes Page 4

by Harper Lin


  “I see. Aren’t you the tough one.” He hissed. “Are you here to tell me I should kill myself too? Is that it? Like Sandra told me to do? Like half this town told me to do? Have you got some sixth sense that has told you I’m the man who did it? That I’m guilty?”

  Amelia shook her head. This big brute was starting to get excited, and who knew what he’d be capable of doing in a fit of rage.

  “No.” Amelia’s voice was soft but firm. She couldn’t show any of the fear that was running through her veins like a swarm of fire ants. “I only want to know your story, your side of things.”

  “Okay. I had tossed back a six-pack and got drunk. I fell asleep, and the next thing I know, Starla-Ann is beating on my chest and head to wake me up, screaming that the kid was gone.” He took another gulp of beer. The cigarette he lit smoldered in the ashtray in front of him. “I thought she had seen her sister leaving and was pissed about that.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, Sandra forgot to tell you that, too? Funny, she forgot to tell the cops about it, too. Yeah. She knew I was back with Starla. She also knew Starla wasn’t home yet and that there was a good chance I had beer, so she stopped by. She wanted to act like we never broke up, if you catch my meaning.” He winked at Amelia. “But I wasn’t that drunk. Don’t get me wrong. Sandra was a good-looking woman when she fixed herself up. But I don’t crap where I eat.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police she was there? That could have made a big difference in the investigation.”

  Kyle tapped the long gray ash from the end of the cigarette.

  “No, it wouldn’t have.” He sneered. “It would have just caused me a lot of explaining.”

  He looked at the row of bottles in front of him. Amelia sat patiently waiting. Kyle Spoon was a textbook case of alcoholism and much too far gone for her to try and help. All she could do was listen.

  “Sandra was good in bed. No doubt. But Starla-Ann, well, she was different. Preston looked just like her, too. He looked so much like her that there was almost no trace of me anywhere except in his feet. The little guy had clodhoppers just like his old man.” He looked down at his huge work boots.

  “So you didn’t tell the police that Sandra was there. You kept a secret for her. Yet she still doesn’t like you? I don’t get it. Why would that be?”

  Kyle shrugged.

  “Come on. You’re a woman.” He snickered.

  “So Starla-Ann never knew her own sister was trying to steal her man?” Amelia sipped her pop as Kyle shook his head no.

  “Where were you when Preston was found?”

  “I was sleeping off the beers I had that night. I didn’t think it was anything serious. I was sure they’d find him and that he’d be okay and everything would have worked out fine and gone back to normal.”

  He drank down the last of his beer. Looking at Amelia’s nearly full glass of soda, he chuckled.

  “Would you like another one, or is that one going right to your head?”

  Amelia grinned but shook her head no. “Sandra said there was a fight, too, that night. Is that true?”

  The smirk left Kyle’s face, and he looked toward the door of the tavern.

  “Boy, Sandra sure felt chatty. Did she tell you that fella just came waltzing in the house like he lived there?” He clenched his fists. “Did she tell you it was my house Starla was living in?”

  “That made you mad?”

  “Look, I doubt you’d know what it feels like to see the father of your children with someone else.” His eyes roamed up and down Amelia’s body, making it obvious he approved of what he saw. “But when it’s at your own home, I feel I got the right to take a swing at the man.”

  Amelia couldn’t bring herself to tell him she knew exactly how it felt. She didn’t want to have anything in common with this guy who drank his dinner every night and graded his women on how they were in bed. But still, the first time she saw her ex-husband, John, with his new girlfriend, Jennifer, she did want to slap them both.

  “Plus, I didn’t like the look of the guy. One of those know-it-all types.” Judging from Kyle’s behavior, Amelia thought it was just a simple case of the green-eyed monster. If the new boyfriend was working and wanted his own plumbing business someday, while Kyle was only testing the capabilities of his liver, there was no doubt there would be a clash of horns.

  “Did Starla-Ann call her new boyfriend to come over?”

  “She must have. I certainly didn’t do it.”

  “Sandra didn’t do it?”

  Kyle sat there for a moment and stared at Amelia. It was obvious he had never thought of that. Then he snapped out of it and shrugged.

  Amelia looked sadly at Kyle. It occurred to her that he had talked about everyone involved in what happened that night except Preston.

  “Well, Kyle, I appreciate your talking with me.”

  “Leaving so soon?” He looked at his watch. “I thought in a little while we could swap recipes and discuss women we hate then binge on some chocolate.”

  There was a tinny sound in his voice as Kyle spoke. He knew what he was. His looks were fading. He had no real job and probably got paid under the table so he could continue to collect some kind of social security or disability or whatever program he could swindle from. This was as good as it was going to get. He didn’t even have his son to carry on his name. It was more sad than anything else.

  As Amelia slipped off the bar stool, she stuck out her hand to shake.

  Kyle looked at it and then up at her eyes.

  “You know...” He smiled a smile Amelia knew he had practiced on dozens of women over his lifetime. “If you’d like to stick around and see what happens, no strings attached, I’d be good with that.”

  Pulling her hand away quickly, Amelia tilted her head to the left and pursed her brow.

  “Good night, Kyle.”

  He laughed loudly as Amelia left. She was happy to be back into the bright fluorescent light of the liquor store, and the fresh air outside made her lungs feel free to expand and fill up.

  She climbed into her car and had just strapped her seat belt on when Kyle came hurrying out of the building. He saw her in the car and came up to the driver’s-side window.

  Rolling it down just an inch, Amelia smiled awkwardly at him.

  “I wanted you to know that I didn’t kill my son.”

  “I didn’t say you did, Kyle.”

  “No. I know. Thanks for that. But.” He stuck his hands in his pockets for a second then withdrew them again. “I never did anything with my life. Preston was my only accomplishment. Preston was the only thing I was ever proud of.”

  Without another word, he strolled back into the Sovereign Tap.

  Chapter Four

  After Amelia had gotten back home and spent almost a solid half hour under a hot shower, scrubbing off the stale smoke smell, she put on some comfy sweats and sat at the kitchen table.

  Making up the menu for The Pink Cupcake tomorrow gave her some relief from the horror story that was the murder of Preston Dwight. She couldn’t help but wonder why the police didn’t look into this whole situation more.

  The father, who was known to be in and out of trouble with the law, had a little boy who turned up dead, and no real questions were asked? It didn’t make any sense. How could Sandra get away with not mentioning she was at the house the same night the boy disappeared?

  Amelia tried to focus her eyes on the two suspects. The only one who said anything about David Scranton was Sandra. He had contacted her and told her why he was in town? Could she have been more involved than she’d let on?

  Just then the doorbell rang, making Amelia jump out of her skin.

  “I’ll get it!” Meg yelled and came stomping down the stairs like Coxey’s Army. “Hey, Dan,” Amelia heard her cheerfully say. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks, kid. Mom home?”

  Amelia stood up, running her hand through her hair, and walked toward the front door.

  “This is a
surprise,” she said to Dan.

  He was carrying a big white take-out bag. He followed her into the kitchen and set the bag on the table. The rich smell of hamburgers and French fries hit Amelia’s nose and made her stomach grumble.

  “Oh gosh. Are those Moody’s burgers?”

  “Only the best for you.”

  “Well, you’re a keeper.” She turned to grab a plate, when Dan took her by the arm and squeezed. Both looked in Meg’s direction, but she had already disappeared back upstairs.

  Amelia smiled as Dan leaned down for a kiss. He smelled good, wearing the spicy cologne she liked so much. Not a trace of cigarette smell.

  “Let’s eat,” he finally said after holding Amelia close to him for several seconds.

  After Amelia poured some water into a couple of glasses, they sat down across from one another and began to eat.

  “So how’s the case coming along?” she asked between bites.

  Dan dabbed a drop of ketchup off her chin with a napkin.

  “This is a strange one,” he said. “Without making you lose your appetite, I’ll keep the details to a minimum.”

  “I don’t mind details.” Amelia leaned forward, eager to hear what Dan had to say.

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he teased her. “This Scranton guy had been at the motel for several days prior to his murder. There is some evidence that he was not alone.”

  “Like someone else working on the story with him?”

  “Not quite. More like someone else keeping him company.”

  Amelia’s eyes widened as she nodded.

  “We found some physical evidence that was out of place for a guy there alone.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, there were candles in the bathroom where the body was found. There was also an empty condom wrapper on the floor next to the bed.”

  “But how did he die? I thought the papers said he was strangled.”

  “That was how he died. However, whoever did that to him wanted it to look like either a suicide attempt or some kind of kinky escapade gone wrong.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “You aren’t the only one.” Dan took another huge bite of his juicy burger before continuing his description of the murder scene. “Scranton was strangled to death by what seemed like a unique-looking cord that had a zigzag pattern down the middle of it. But whoever strangled him also slit his wrists in an attempt to make it look like he killed himself. He was placed in the bathtub with most of his clothes still on, and there was no suicide note.”

  “I’m exhausted just hearing that.” Amelia took a drink of water. “That is a lot of work to go through, and what for? What did Scranton know that he had to be killed for?”

  “Call me crazy, but I don’t think he was really here to investigate the cold case of Preston Dwight. I think it was a ruse to do something else. But someone thought he was here to do that and didn’t want him digging up any old bones.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the cord used to strangle David Scranton had the same pattern as the cord used to kill Preston Dwight.”

  That tiny fact sent shivers up Amelia’s spine.

  “Are you going to visit the suspects in the original murder of that little boy?” Amelia swallowed hard. “Because I already met his aunt. She said she spoke with Dan Scranton. It seems that Preston’s mother, Starla-Ann, died not long after Preston did.”

  “Those people are from Brookhaven, Amelia. That isn’t a safe place for a lady to drive in alone.”

  “It was broad daylight, and I knew where I was going.”

  “But I didn’t know where you were going.” Dan let out a long sigh. “What in the world possessed you to go there by yourself? Can I just ask that one dumb question?”

  He leaned forward and looked Amelia in the eye.

  “Dan, Preston was six when he died. Adam was six that same year. I can’t imagine what that mother went through. To have the case go cold. I guess I just wanted to tell her that she wasn’t all by herself. That people cared. I don’t know, that sounds stupid, but it’s true. I know if it were me, I’d appreciate a kind gesture like that. Especially if I came from what everyone knew was the wrong side of the tracks.”

  Amelia let out a deep breath.

  “The next time you decide to go to Brookhaven or some other ghetto by yourself, let me know ahead of time. At least I can have a couple of squads nearby in case you need help.”

  “I guess I should tell you that I spoke with Preston’s father, too.”

  “You can tell me what you spoke about. Just don’t tell me where you were. I don’t want to know.”

  Amelia laughed.

  After they finished their food, they moved into the living room to sit on the couch. Amelia gave her impression of Kyle Spoon, and Dan gave Amelia more details about Preston Dwight’s murder that she hadn’t known.

  “He was found at the park. Whoever killed him did it somewhere else and dropped the body there. He had been beaten, but the cause of death was strangulation.”

  “Are you sure this wasn’t just a random act by someone who is now in, I don’t know, Chicago, doing the same thing?”

  “Normally, I’d think that. But within a rolling year of Preston’s death, there wasn’t a single child murder in Gary or any of the other towns in a five-hundred-mile radius. Killers like that will seize an opportunity, and you’ll find a trail of where they’ve been. Plus, it was fall when Preston was killed. It got darker sooner. The kids were in school. Child kidnapping drops almost eighty percent when the summer months are over.”

  “I had no idea.” Amelia was fascinated. Funny how so many killers followed a pattern they didn’t even realize. She doubted any of them looked in the mirror saying, “Just three more days until the first day of summer. Kidnappin’ season starts.”

  “Plus, the little boy was six. According to the initial report, he never went outside the home alone to look for his mother. He looked out the door, and when he saw her car, he would go out. At least that is what the mother said in her initial interview when they were looking for him. Whoever got a hold of him was someone he knew. Call it gut instinct.” Dan took a deep breath. “I’m still seeing the father as the main suspect. He was a drunk. He flew into fits of jealous rage. He conveniently was asleep when the boy was taken, yet forensics say the kid was killed at that approximate time. The body was found after the detectives interviewing him let him go. That’s just a little too convenient.”

  They spent the next half hour discussing the case together, just bouncing ideas around, then Dan stood from the couch. Smoothing out his tan pants and loosening his tie, he said he’d better start heading home.

  “Why don’t you just sleep here?” Amelia suggested. “The guest room never gets used. The kids won’t mind as long as we ask them like adults. And I’ll even make you a real breakfast in the morning if you’d like.”

  “How could I turn down an offer like that?” He gave Amelia that smirk that constituted a huge grin for the stoic detective.

  Amelia called Adam up from the basement and Meg down from her room to meet in the family room.

  “Dan said he was going to drive home, and I suggested that he just stay and use the guest room. What do you guys think?”

  “Just stay in the guest room, Dan.” Adam looked at both of them as if they were completely crazy to think there might be a better answer.

  Everyone looked at Meg, who stood there tapping her foot with her arms folded across her chest.

  “I don’t know.” She mused like her mother. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Oh, you mean on top of the free food, clothing, and shelter that you’re already getting?” Amelia answered, crossing her arms over her own chest. “Hmmm…let me think. I know. A good swift kick? Soap in your mouth? A good old-fashioned spanking? Thirty days in the hole? Any one of those. You pick.”

  Meg couldn’t keep a straight face and started to laugh.

  “Hey, D
an. Could you tell me another story about your rookie days?” Meg clapped her hands together and bounced on her toes.

  “Oh yeah. About the stories from your rookie days...” Amelia gave Dan that look the kids knew meant he was busted. “Maybe you’re the one who needs soap in his mouth.”

  “You heard your mother,” he grumbled. “Maybe if I tell her the story first, she’ll let me know if it’s appropriate.”

  “I can handle it, Mom. I’m not a little girl anymore, you know.”

  “Not much.” Adam had to get in on the conversation. “That’s why you still cry when you watch that stupid movie Boys Town with Mickey Rooney.”

  “That movie is not stupid.” Meg gasped. “Anyone who doesn’t cry when PeeWee gets hit by a car has no soul.”

  “I cried when PeeWee got hit by the car,” Dan admitted as if confessing a serious crime.

  “See?” Meg lifted her chin at her brother defiantly.

  “Dan, you aren’t the man I thought you were.” Adam shook his head and clicked his tongue before heading back into the basement.

  “Okay, then it’s settled. You can stay in the guest room. But I’ll warn you. In a house with only one bathroom and two teenagers, it might get a little dicey in the morning.”

  “I’ve got my weapon,” Dan replied without skipping a beat.

  After everyone had said their good nights and Amelia was in her room, she climbed into bed and lay awake for a short time. It was nice having Dan just down the hall. Would she have liked him to be closer? Perhaps in her room, sharing her bed? Maybe. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

  But it wasn’t just her needs that she had to consider. Those two kids were too important to rush into anything. So far, Dan had proven to be a diamond in the rough. Meg and Adam were crazy about him. Amelia was crazy about him. But there had to be a practical side to things. Her relationship with him or any man had to be researched and studied as closely as her venture into the world of the food truck business.

  But how lucky was she that this was her biggest dilemma? There were many women out in the world like Starla-Ann Dwight who loved the wrong men.

 

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