Throw a Monkey Wrench (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 1)

by Karen Chester

  “Emma! Come in. What are you doing here?” His surprise turned to consternation when she limped into the house and the hallway light fell on her. “Holy moly, what happened?”

  “Oh, hell. What hasn’t happened! Sean, I’ve got something exciting to tell you—” A figure shifted in the shadowed hallway behind Sean. With nerves already shredded to ribbons, she couldn’t help shrieking before she recognized the apparition as Larry Durand from the auto shop. “Oh God, Larry! You gave me such a fright.” Panting, she pressed a hand over her galloping heart.

  “Sorry. Guess I’m light-footed.” Larry shifted back. He’d been there all the time, yet she hadn’t noticed him. The man had a knack of blending into the background like a chameleon.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, still trying to recover her breath.

  A slight frown touched Larry’s forehead, but before he could say anything, Sean spoke up. “Larry and I were going over some accounts. But never mind that. You look like you’ve been in a fight. Do you need a doctor?”

  “No, I doubt it. It’s just bumps and scratches.” She rubbed the back of her neck and found both her neck and hand were clammy with dirt and sweat. “Mind if I wash up a bit before we talk?”

  “Sure. Here, let me help you.” Taking her by the elbow, he steered her down the hallway until they came to a bathroom. “There’re clean towels in there and a first aid kit in the cabinet. Help yourself to whatever you need.” Sean glanced at her ragged sweater and dusty jeans. “I’ll see what I can rustle up in the way of clean clothes.”

  His simple kindness got to her, and she found her eyes stinging with tears. “Thank you,” she murmured, choked with gratitude.

  Like most men faced with the threat of female tears, Sean ducked away and closed the bathroom door, giving her the privacy she needed.

  Adrenaline and the survival instinct had kept her going for the past couple of hours, but now she was tapped out. Gripping the edge of the basin, she inspected herself in the mirror and wasn’t surprised at her disheveled and desperate air. Not only was she filthy, but her face was gaunt and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She was a wreck.

  But she had survived.

  The thought braced her, lending her an extra spurt of energy. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as she could take it. The abrasions on her hands, arms, and legs stung, but she relished the steaming water. After shampooing her hair, careful of the bump on the back of her skull, she turned off the faucets, toweled herself off, and wrapped herself in the thick, fluffy bathrobe she found hanging behind the door.

  This bathroom was modern and inviting, she realized. The towels were clean, the lights were bright, and it smelled nice, too. Sean was a house-proud man, and when Kyle was arrested Sean would be free to marry Madison and live their dream together.

  She bounced out of the bathroom, buoyed by her optimism, and saw that Sean had left some clothing for her folded up on a nearby chair. A white T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, probably the only things that might fit her. She went back into the bathroom and changed. The T-shirt threatened to slip off one shoulder, and the drawstring of the shorts had to be tightly knotted, but they would do.

  Venturing out again, she found Sean and Larry in the kitchen area at the back of the house. They were sitting at a rather elegant round wooden table. The chairs were matching walnut, and the dining set was situated in a glassed-in alcove that looked out over the back yard.

  “Coffee?” Sean asked, rising to his feet as soon as she entered.

  “Please. I feel like I could drink ten gallons of it.” She slid into a seat opposite Larry. The auto mechanic was quiet, his hands folded around a coffee cup. Sean slid a mug of hot coffee in front of her, and she inhaled the heavenly fragrance for several moments before reaching for the sugar basin. “Great place you’ve got here, Kyle,” she said appreciatively as she stirred in two heaped teaspoons of sugar. Usually she put sweetener in her coffee, but tonight she needed something to boost her energy.

  “It’s okay.” Sean resumed his seat.

  “No, it’s more than okay. Your home is lovely, don’t you agree, Larry?”

  Larry coughed and shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting about the kitchen. “Ah, yeah, it’s great. A lot better than the dump I have to live in.”

  Sean swiveled toward him, eyebrows rising. “Didn’t realize you felt that strongly about your home.”

  The auto mechanic frowned down at his coffee mug, his fingers tapping on the table.

  “Aw, y’know. I’ve had some bad luck in the past.” He shrugged. “But it’s not forever. I’ll be able to get out of Struggle Street one of these days.”

  “No reason you can’t,” Sean replied. “I was down on Struggle Street once, but I clawed my way out.” He turned to Emma. “Want anything to eat?”

  “No, thanks,” Emma murmured, distracted by Larry. Something—some strong emotion—had flashed across his face for a brief moment, disappearing before she could place a finger on it.

  Sean focused his gaze on Emma. “So, what happened tonight?”

  She leaned forward to spill her story, talking rapidly between quick sips of coffee. The two men listened in silence. Only when she got to the end did Sean let out a deep exhale.

  “That dirty rat!” He jumped to his feet and paced back and forth on the wooden floorboards. “I never knew what Madison saw in Kyle. He’s such a jerk.” Sean upped his chin in Larry’s direction. “You remember when he used to bring his pickup truck to the shop. Always strutting around like a damn peacock and making out like we were just dumb grease monkeys.”

  “Yeah,” Larry muttered but didn’t add anything, just continued to pick at the dirt around his fingernails.

  “And he’s tried more than once to break Madison and me up.” Sean looked like he wanted to spit. “God, what a scumbag. I’m not surprised he killed his own father.”

  Without warning Larry let out a strange whistling noise before resting his head in his hands. Sean walked over to him and gave him a soft punch on the shoulder.

  “Hey, you’re not going to faint, are you, buddy?” Glancing across the table at Emma, he gave her a quick wink. “Larry here’s a softie. Always has been. Got beaten up a lot when we were kids.”

  Emma nodded. Now that she’d blurted out her story to Sean, she was anxious to get official wheels turning. While Kyle was still out there, she didn’t dare go back home, which was precisely what she was dying to do right now.

  “Mind if I borrow your phone?” she asked Sean. “I want to call the police station and tell them what happened.”

  He picked up his cell phone from a nearby counter and handed it to her. “Go ahead.” Breathing heavily, he resumed his pacing, and she sensed his anticipation at the possibility of his ordeal ending soon.

  She pushed to her bare feet and, feeling the need for privacy, went out to the living room to make her call. She asked the dispatcher to contact Sherilee, giving him Sean’s address and phone number. When she returned to the kitchen, Sean was alone.

  “Where’s Larry?” Emma asked as she took a seat.

  “He left. He doesn’t like cops.” Sighing softly, Sean dropped into a chair and scratched his chin. “I can’t believe this nightmare might soon be over. I’ve been going through hell.”

  “Yes, it’s been tough on you and Madison.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded thoughtfully before uttering a rueful laugh. “You know why Larry was here tonight? I was preparing to hand over the business to him.”

  “Larry? You were going to give him the auto repair shop?”

  “No, not give it to him. I was planning to put him in charge of everything in exchange for half the profits. I figured it was the best thing to do, considering that I’d have my hands full preparing for the court case and then, who knows, facing years in jail.”

  “Wow.” Leaning back in her chair, Emma thought about quiet, unassuming Larry. “That’s quite a big step.”r />
  “Yeah. I wasn’t too confident about putting Larry in charge. Especially after I had to tell him off for using customers’ cars. And a lot of people think he’s a dweeb. But I didn’t have many options ’cos I sure didn’t have any faith in my cousin Bart. He’d have wrecked the place. It was either Larry, or let the business fade away. But now I don’t have to make any changes, thanks to you.” Sean smiled, and for the first time since he’d been arrested she saw a glimmer of his previous confidence returning.

  “I’m glad.”

  “How long do you think it will take for the police to get here?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. I told the dispatcher I needed to talk to Officer Ackerman as soon as possible. I said it was urgent.”

  “And you’re sure she’ll listen to you?” A shadow of doubt crossed Sean’s face. “She’s gonna take your evidence to Chief Putnam and stand up against him if he tries to shoot it down?”

  “I’ll tell you something, Sean. Personally I’m not a fan of Sherilee, but she’s a stickler for the rules. She’ll do the right thing.”

  “I hope so.”

  A rowdy banging on the front door startled them, bringing them both to their feet.

  “See?” Emma said. “She’s here already.”

  She trailed after Sean as he made his way to the front of the house. The banging started again, and she wondered why Sherilee was so impatient, since she hadn’t dialed 911.

  “Police! Open up!” someone hollered from outside.

  Sean opened the door and immediately fell back a couple of steps as Owen barged his way in, his service pistol in both hands.

  ***

  “Get down on the floor!” Owen yelled at Sean.

  His face turning green, Sean flopped down onto his stomach, hands stretched out above his head.

  Emma gaped at Owen in shock. His eyes locked with hers. His face…she’d never seen him like that before, so taut and strained.

  “What are you doing?” she squeaked in disbelief.

  Owen jerked his head in Sean’s direction. “Did he do it? Is he the one who kidnapped you?”

  “What? No! You’ve got it all wrong. Sean didn’t do anything!”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Please, put that gun away and let him up.”

  “I’m not taking any chances.” Owen holstered his gun and produced a pair of handcuffs. With rough efficiency he cuffed Sean and got him into a sitting position.

  “For God’s sakes, this is ridiculous!” Emma protested, stunned by Owen’s over–the-top actions. “Let him go. You’re making a huge mistake.”

  Owen hooked her by the elbow and pulled her away from Sean.

  “Listen, I’ll let him go when you explain what happened. Two hours ago I stopped by your house and found you weren’t there, but your car was, and so was your bag lying in the middle of the driveway. I questioned your neighbors, and one of them reported seeing a dark-colored pickup truck near your house a short while ago. I knew something was wrong, and ever since then I’ve been busting a gut trying to find you, so excuse me if I’m not too polite, because I’ve just gone through two hours of hell!”

  She couldn’t speak. The tension radiating off Owen was almost nuclear. Stress lines carved up his forehead, and his eyes were like furnaces. He looked so mad with her she felt her insides shrivel.

  “How…how did you know I was here?” she asked hoarsely.

  “I alerted the Greenville Police Department about your disappearance. Sherilee called me as soon as she heard from the dispatcher, and I happened to be in the area.” He looked her over, taking in the borrowed clothes she was wearing. “So who was it?”

  “Kyle, Tony Barnet’s son. He tackled me outside my house, and I fell and somehow lost consciousness. Either I hit my head or he bashed me, but I don’t remember. When I came to, I was in the back of his pickup truck, and he was driving somewhere east of the lake, in the middle of nowhere. When we stopped, we…we had some words. I—I don’t know what he was planning to do with me, but I took my chance and ran off.” A chill came over her as she relived those frightening moments stumbling through the dark. “I don’t know how long I walked for, but eventually I came to a road and—and flagged down a passing motorist. He dropped me off here.”

  Owen stood and contemplated her for several long moments. “You didn’t think to call me?”

  He sounded almost hurt, she thought in surprise. “You didn’t believe me when I told you about the pickup truck,” she answered defensively. “You thought I was imagining it all.”

  He let out a sigh, and his eyes drooped as if all the stress of the past few hours had finally caught up with him.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he said, his voice soft. “And I’m relieved to see you in one piece, even if you are wearing Sean’s clothes.” An edge had returned to his voice.

  “I was filthy,” she protested. “Now, are you going to take those cuffs off Sean? He’s innocent of everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes. Sean didn’t kill Tony Barnet, Kyle did.”

  “Kyle. Kyle murdered his own father. Is that what he confessed to you when he kidnapped you?”

  The wariness in Owen’s expression didn’t escape her notice. “He didn’t exactly confess, but all the evidence points to him. Kyle was responsible for the food poisoning at the housewarming party. He disguised himself as one of the wait staff and doctored the ice cream with crushed up slug pellets. He was angry with his father because Tony had refused to pay any more of his outstanding debts. Kyle owes some mobster boss a hundred grand. He was desperate for money, and he was under the impression that he stood to inherit the bulk of Tony’s estate. Plus, he hated Sean because, in Kyle’s eyes, Sean had stolen his girl from him. Did you know that Madison and Kyle were once an item?

  “Anyway, Kyle saw his opportunity to get rid of both obstacles at once. He’d previously brought his truck for repairs at Sean’s auto shop, so he knew where Sean’s tools were kept. He was also there when Sean had a blazing row with Tony over the phone and threatened to make him pay. Kyle followed Sean to Tony’s house, waited for Sean to leave, then hit Tony over the head and left the wrench for the police to find. It all makes sense.”

  But Owen didn’t seem as stunned by her brilliance as she’d hoped.

  “Well, it’s a good theory, I’ll give you that. I’m sure the local police will follow it up.”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?” Indignant, she pressed hands on hips.

  “Of course not.” His eyebrows slammed together. Once more he looked annoyed with her. “I, along with the rest of the sheriff’s department and the local police, will be searching for Kyle Barnet, and when we find him, we’ll question him about everything, including his possible involvement in the murder. But we have to hear his side of the story before we jump to conclusions.”

  Owen might have a point, but why did he have to lecture her like she was a kid? She jabbed a finger in Sean’s direction. The poor guy was still hunched on the floor, his arms awkwardly bent behind his back.

  “Can you at least jump to the conclusion that Sean had nothing to do with my abduction and take off those damn cuffs?”

  With an exasperated sigh, Owen stalked over to Sean and uncuffed him. Sean scrambled to his feet as Emma hurried to his side.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” she said as it became clear that Owen wasn’t about to apologize for restraining him.

  “I’m used to it,” he said gloomily.

  He was still rubbing his wrists when Sherilee arrived, the lights of her police cruiser flashing through the open front door. Owen stomped out onto the porch to greet her.

  Sean sighed. “I guess I’ll make more coffee. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Emma woke at ten the following day. She’d thought she would sleep past noon, given her ordeal from yesterday plus the fact that she’d only gotten home at two in the mornin
g, but part of her must have sensed that there was too much unfinished business for her to be sleeping in.

  Last night, she had repeated to Sherilee what she’d told Owen, and the two officers had alerted their respective agencies about Kyle Barnet. Then Emma had accompanied Sherilee to the police station where an ME had checked her out and she had given her statement all over again. About fifteen minutes after that, a couple of cops had brought in Kyle Barnet, handcuffed, disheveled, and belligerent.

  Of course Emma hadn’t been allowed to talk to him, and she didn’t want to, either. She was just relieved that the guy was off the streets, which meant she could sleep in peace tonight. Owen had returned her tote bag and then driven her home, both of them too exhausted for conversation. When they got to her house, she hadn’t protested when he insisted on searching the house before letting her retire.

  Now, after a few hours of restless slumber, she was awake, fidgety, and on edge. She wanted things to happen—Sean exonerated, Kyle charged with murder, everything to be set to rights—but she realized that the wheels of justice ground slowly. She would have to be patient.

  But she was too antsy to stay at home, even though the ME had recommended she rest for a day or so. Her head didn’t hurt much at all, and the prospect of lolling on the couch watching television held no appeal. So she pulled on clean jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers and drove to her office. As soon as she stepped into the building, Caitlyn came flying out of Lulu’s Salon and flung her arms around her.

  “Omigod! You’re safe! I was going to come around to your place, but Becky said you were probably sleeping and not to disturb you. You must have been so scared. I can’t believe it! That dirtbag Kyle!”