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

by Karen Chester

  “Yes, I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

  “That Kyle is a piece of work, isn’t he?”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” She shifted on her feet. “Actually, Scott, I was wondering if you could clear up something for me.”

  Returning his unlit cigarette to his packet, Scott nodded. “Yeah, sure. Anything.”

  “It’s about the night Tony Barnet drove his car into your store.”

  Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “What about it?”

  “Well, according to reports, Tony said he drove into the parking lot to turn his car around and then somehow confused the gas pedal for the brakes and slammed into your store. But I’ve just seen a car do that exact maneuver, and if the driver had lost control, the car would have hit your store at an angle like this.” She stretched out her right forearm slanted inwards. “But, according to your CC footage, Tony’s car hit your store like this.” She held up her left forearm also slanted inwards. “See? Completely opposite angles.”

  Scott frowned at her arms as if they were hieroglyphics. “Um, yeah, I guess so. Tony must’ve driven further into the parking lot to make that angle.”

  To make that angle? The disquiet that had been tickling the back of her mind grew a little stronger. “I think Tony did that on purpose.”

  Scott looked bewildered. “But why?”

  Because he wanted to hide something. Something incriminating and very damaging to a man in Tony Barnet’s position.

  “And after the crash, his car went to Sean’s repair shop,” she murmured, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  “Yeah, it did,” Scott said, looking even more baffled. “What are you getting at?”

  She dropped her arms to her sides as her mind started to race. She was onto something here, but she wasn’t going to shoot her mouth off just yet, not until she had more solid proof. After yesterday, she’d learned her lesson.

  The accident had happened two months ago. Any debris here at the store had long since been cleaned up, but maybe there was another place that might still have a clue.

  “Thanks, Scott.” She turned to go.

  “Hey, what’s the big mystery? Where are you going?”

  “Um, I’ll tell you later. Bye.”

  Before Scott could ask any more questions, she scampered back to her car and drove off. She might not be able to prove Sean’s innocence yet, but she might be able to provide some answers to an unsolved crime.

  ***

  On a Saturday evening, the street leading to the auto repair shop was deserted. Most of the businesses in this industrial estate would be closed for the weekend. But someone appeared to be there at Sean’s shop, because even though the front office was dark and locked up, the entry to the workshop was open, and a few lights were on inside.

  Emma parked her car in the deserted lot and walked into the building. The interior was dim and quiet, and her footsteps echoed around her, sounding louder in the hush.

  “Hello, anyone here? Sean?”

  “Yeah?”

  She jumped as Sean emerged from the main workshop out back. His eyes were bloodshot, and face was belligerent. She’d never seen him like this before.

  “Uh, hi, Sean.” Belatedly, she realized why he must be feeling sore. “I’m sorry about…everything.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “Huh, me too. Last night I thought the nightmare was over and I could finally breathe again. But I should’ve known better.” He shook his head morosely “When I was arrested I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong.”

  Emma winced. “I know you’re angry with Madison for not telling you about Kyle, but she loves you. She’s devastated that you’ve broken up with her. She still believes in you. She still wants to marry you.”

  With an impatient sound, he swatted a hand. “I don’t want to talk about Madison anymore, if that’s what you’re here for.”

  “Actually, I came here to talk about something else.”

  Sean leaned against a bench, looking listless and uninterested. “What?” he sighed.

  “It’s about Tony Barnet’s SUV that he brought here to be repaired after he drove into the liquor store.”

  At the mention of Tony Barnet, Sean’s eyebrows drew together. “Didn’t we talk about this already?”

  “Yes. You told me Larry worked on it.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “I guess so.”

  “You guess so? But that was the repair bill that you and he were arguing over.”

  Frustration briefly animated his face. “Look, Emma, in case you haven’t noticed, a hell of a lot has happened since then. I can’t remember every frigging detail!” He threw up his hands in obvious resentment.

  “But you must have records of all your jobs,” she persisted. “I’m sorry if I’m needling you, but I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Please, Sean.”

  He blew out a sigh as the redness in his face gradually subsided. “All right,” he huffed. “I’ll have to check the logs in the office. Follow me.”

  She trotted after him as he unlocked the reception office and snapped on the lights. He powered on the computer at the front desk and tapped in some commands on the keyboard.

  “Yeah, it’s as I thought,” he said after a while. “Larry was on call for the tow truck that night, and he worked on Tony’s SUV once it got here.”

  “Were there any problems with doing the repair?”

  “What kind of problems do you mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but her instinct told her she’d know it when she stumbled across it. “Was there anything unusual about the damage?”

  Sean squinted at the computer monitor again. “No. Larry replaced the front left and right panels, the headlights, the bumper bar, and repaired the hood. He spray painted the entire vehicle. It’s exactly what you’d expect from ramming a car into a store. I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  Sean was looking quite perplexed. He didn’t need to know about her suspicions. He had enough worries in his life.

  “I just have a hunch about something, that’s all.”

  Sean frowned at her, and she knew he was thinking that her hunches could also backfire. But he merely shrugged as he shut down the computer. “If you want to talk to Larry, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Okay. I don’t mind waiting.”

  The frown lingered on Sean’s face. “I’m heading home. I’m not good company right now.” He hesitated, and his voice softened a little. “But thanks anyway for trying to help me…”

  Even if she’d only made things worse. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

  They exited the reception office, Sean locking up after them. With a brief nod to her, he walked off, heading for the rear of the business where the staff parked their cars.

  Alone in the garage, Emma paced about the oil-stained floor. Her nerves were stringing out again. If she had any sense she’d stop her snooping and go home. Leave the investigating to the police. But her stubborn streak was stronger than she’d anticipated. She would wait for Larry to return and see if he could shed any light on Tony’s SUV. And while she was waiting, she may as well see for herself if there was any incriminating evidence lying around. Evidence that might seem quite innocent if you didn’t know what you were looking for.

  Mind made up, she walked into the main workshop. As before, she was struck by its cavernous proportions, accentuated by the fact that no one was there. She paced up the center of the workshop, examining the bays, the equipment, the tall metal cases on wheels that held each mechanic’s tools. There were only a couple of vehicles in for repair, a depressing sign of Sean’s dwindling business. Maybe, if the trend continued, he’d be forced to close up shop.

  She stopped in front of one of the cars being repaired. The lights were on over this bay, and the tool box was open. This must be one of Larry’s jobs, because Sean wouldn’t go home leaving his bay like this. Edging closer, she peered into the open drawers of the
tool box. The hand tools lay in jumbled heaps, most of them thick with grease, while the bench at the rear of his bay was piled with more tools, dirty rags, dog-eared manuals, and general detritus.

  She started as her phone began to ring, its cheery tones reverberating around the building. Pulling it from her handbag, she grimaced as she saw it was Owen. If she answered the call, he’d want to know where she was and nag at her to go home and rest. Well, she didn’t need one of his lectures now. With a determined press of her finger, she terminated the call and then switched any further calls to voicemail.

  She slipped the phone back in her handbag and leaned over to examine the contents of Larry’s tool box. A red glint in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She peered closer into the bottom drawer. It was stuffed full with dirty rags, but peeking out beneath them was something made out of red reflective plastic. Intrigued, she drew it out for closer inspection.

  It was a red LED rear light designed to attach onto the back of a bicycle, and it had a large crack running down the middle. Now why would Larry bother keeping a broken bicycle light? Turning it over in her hand, she saw the tiny initials scratched on the back. DC. Someone’s initials, maybe. Most people wouldn’t bother to put their initials on a bicycle light…unless they didn’t have much money. A light bulb went off in her head. Of course. She knew exactly who owned this bicycle light. And if it was here, then that must mean—

  The sound of heavy boots on concrete cut through her milling thoughts. Instinct made her shove the LED bicycle light into her bag before she jumped upright. The man who’d been striding into the workshop came to an abrupt halt.

  “What are you doing here?” Larry asked, a look of total confusion clouding his face.

  “Uh…er…” Her mind whirled with desperation. “I was looking for Sean.”

  “He’s not here.” Larry advanced toward her, his glower intensifying. “Why are you poking around in my bay?”

  “I—I wasn’t poking around.” Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her voice from wavering. Shifting the bag on her shoulder, she forced a smile to her lips. “Well, um, if Sean’s not here, I’ll get going, then.”

  She took a hesitant step forward, but Larry blocked her path. “Why’re you so jumpy?”

  “I’m not jumpy!” Oh damn, why did her voice have to squeak whenever she was nervous?

  “Yeah, you are.” Under the domed lights, Larry’s face took on a narrow slant. He looked like a rat, a rat that normally scuttled away but, if cornered, could give a serious bite.

  Edging closer, he glanced about her. His gaze fell on the bottom drawer of his tool box, and his wiry body instantly tensed.

  “You been poking through my things?” He hunched over and rifled through the drawer. “You took it! You bitch! Where is it? Give it back. Now.”

  The change in him was swift and terrifying. One moment he was shifty and ratty, and the next he was venomous and deadly. Veins bulged at his neck, rage suffused his face, his breath came out in short, sharp blasts.

  As he stepped toward her, she faltered back until her heels hit the bench at the rear of the bay. Keeping her eyes on Larry, she felt behind her and grabbed the first tool she laid hands on.

  “Get away from me!” she yelled, brandishing a long, thin wrench.

  Larry halted, looking ready to pounce. With the car on one side and a wall on the other, she was trapped. She flailed the wrench at Larry. “Stand back and let me through.”

  Larry shook his head. “You be careful with that thing.”

  She tightened her grip on the hard metal shaft of the wrench. Larry was stronger than her, and desperate, too. Her only chance lay in stalling him and maybe, if she caught him off guard, she might be able to get away.

  “I figured it out, Larry.”

  He paused, eyeing her warily. “Figured what?”

  “I know you repaired Tony’s SUV when he smashed into the liquor store. His car was seriously damaged, but it was already damaged before he drove into that liquor store. You must have found that bicycle rear light somewhere in his car when you repaired it. Maybe you didn’t think anything of it. Maybe you were going to throw it away but never got around to it. But when you heard about the hit-and-run accident that put Luisa Crespo in hospital, you put two and two together. It was Tony who’d hit Luisa in the night, and he realized he was in big trouble. He couldn’t afford a scandal like that, so he tried to hide his tracks. He deliberately crashed into the liquor store to cover up the damage caused by the hit-and-run and because he knew the security camera would capture the whole incident.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Larry’s face. “How did you work that out?” he grudgingly demanded.

  “Because he drove into the store at an angle so the security camera couldn’t see the damage done to the front right of his car. He said he’d only entered the parking lot to do a U-turn, but if that were the case he would’ve struck the store from the opposite angle. His story didn’t add up, so I knew he was hiding something.”

  Larry was looking quite intrigued, and for a moment she felt like Scheherazade, entertaining a despot in order to save her head.

  “But you found the bicycle light, and it had the initials DC on the back, and you realized it belonged to Daniel Crespo. His mother was riding his bike when Tony hit her. You used the light to blackmail Tony. I suppose he paid up initially, but when you pressed for more, he got angry and threatened you. He thought Sean was in on the blackmail, too, which was why he refused to pay his bills. When you realized your blackmail gig was at an end, you tried to make the most of the situation.” Emma paused to suck in a breath. Her arms were getting tired from holding up the wrench, but she couldn’t show him any weakness or he’d pounce.

  “You planned the whole thing. You overheard Sean threatening Tony, and as soon as he left here you took his wrench, carefully preserving his fingerprints. Then you followed him to Tony’s house, knowing there’d be an argument, and after Sean left you killed Tony and left the murder weapon for the police to find.”

  Larry said nothing, and her heart pounded louder as she wondered how much longer he’d let her ramble on for. Maybe if she kept on talking, he wouldn’t make a move. For once he was the focus of attention. No longer a nondescript side character, he was now center stage.

  “You did it, Larry. You killed Tony and framed Sean for murder.”

  His face stiffened, but he said nothing, admitted nothing. His coldness made her want to goad a reaction out of him.

  “Tell me something,” she said conversationally. “How long have you secretly hated Sean?”

  A muddy flush stained Larry’s concave cheeks. Her barb had found its mark.

  “It ain’t personal,” he muttered. “It’s about survival.”

  “No, it’s more than that. I saw the look on your face yesterday at Sean’s house. You’re jealous of him. You resent the fact that he has a great home, a good business, a beautiful girlfriend. You think you should have all that yourself. When your blackmail gig folded, you were furious. Once again you’d failed, while Sean was about to marry the girl of his dreams. You hated him even more, didn’t you?”

  “And why shouldn’t I?” Larry burst out. “Him and me, we started out the same, two punk kids with nothing going for us. But just because he’s flashy and smarmy, he wins everything while all I get is the crumbs off his damn table. He thinks he’s so great!” Bile darkened his voice. “Well, he’s not so great now, is he? His girl cheated on him, he has to hand his business over to me, and he’s facing life in prison.”

  The gloating in Larry’s face turned Emma’s stomach. “You won’t get away with this. You’ll be the one doing life in prison.”

  He puckered up his mouth and spat in her direction. “I should’ve finished you off when I had the chance.”

  When he had the chance? Bits of memory floated back to her, of Sean telling her how Larry had been caught using clients’ vehicles to run chores. “Of course. It was you stalking me the other day. Y
ou ran me off the road. You were trying to scare me off.” She recalled the time when she had discussed Tony’s car with Sean and the feeling she’d had that someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. It had been Larry. He’d heard her, and, fearing she’d cotton on to him soon, had decided drastic action was necessary.

  Resentment filled Larry’s face. “You didn’t learn your lesson, did you? Well, it’s too late now. I have to get rid of you, and believe me, I’ll do a much better job than that jackass Kyle Barnet. I know the mountains around here like the back of my hand. No one is ever going to find your body, and if they do, you’ll be nothing but a pile of bones.”

  “You’re sick,” Emma gasped. “You’re nothing but a sad, perverted joke.”

  He lunged at her, his teeth bared, and with an earsplitting scream, she swung wildly at him with the wrench. The metal slammed into Larry’s arm, the impact jarring the wrench out of her grip. Larry groaned and made a grab for her, his face contorted with menace. She held up her arms, bracing herself for his attack.

  “Police! Don’t move!” The command rang out, causing both Emma and Larry to freeze.

  Officer Ackerman stood behind Larry, her gun drawn. “Show me see your hands, Larry,” she ordered. Larry took one look at her before collapsing to his knees, his arms raised in defeat.

  Sherilee spared a glance at Emma. “You okay?”

  Emma nodded, then her legs gave way, and she slid to the ground, uncaring of the grease and dirt. In a daze she watched Sherilee push Larry to the ground, then handcuff his hands behind his back. Limp as a rag doll, Larry made no protest, all the fight gone out of him. Sherilee spoke to her dispatcher before making her way to Emma.

  “Backup’s on their way,” Sherilee said as she helped Emma to her feet.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Sheer luck. I stopped by the liquor store and Scott remarked how excited you were over something to do with Tony’s car accident. You mentioned Sean’s auto repair shop, and, well, I was kind of worried you might go off half-cocked, so I thought I’d swing by.”