Chapter 1

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Chapter 1 Page 3

by Gillard, Susan


  “I know you, Amy, and I don’t believe you had anything to do with his death,” Ryan said, validating Heather’s belief in him. “However we do need to talk about any connections you had with the victim. Why would he say your name as he lay dying?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think I made him that mad.”

  “It is possible that he just saw her in the room, and that’s why he said Amy,” Heather said.

  “Now I was in the room just like you were,” Hoskins said. “And I’m not sure he could have seen Amy there. He was looking at Shepherd. And I think I might have been blocking her from where I stood.”

  Yes, Hoskins was enjoying this too much.

  “We don’t even know that he was referring to this Amy,” Heather said. “We haven’t looked too much into his life. Maybe another Amy was the love of his life.”

  “He did say the word give as well. I’m no linguist, but I think give sounds and awful lot like Givens. And isn’t that your last name?”

  Heather glared at him. Why couldn’t he be this thorough and make these deductive leaps on other cases with someone who might have actually committed a crime?

  “When did you last see Mr. Lemon?” Ryan asked.

  “When he kicked the bucket in front of us,” Amy said, crossing her arms.

  “Before that.” Ryan amended.

  “He came into Donut Delights yesterday yelling about a case I stole from him. But it wasn’t a real case, and I didn’t really steal it. He was very mad when he left, but said he was going to work on a new big case. Maybe you should look into what that was. Maybe he got in over his head.”

  “Were there any witnesses to this yelling?” Hoskins asked. “Did you say anything back?”

  Heather decided to lay everything out on the table, so then they could see how ridiculous a motive for murder it was. “We tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t be calm. It looked like he had fallen on hard times and needed a new case. Amy is right that he said he was going to look into something big. When he was leaving, he and Amy both threatened the other not to get in their way. But, you see, they both wanted the other to leave them alone. Not to come into their path and kill them.”

  “Death is a pretty permanent way to get someone out of your way.” Hoskins smiled.

  “Even if this wasn’t a flimsy excuse for a motive, there’s no way that Amy could have done this.”

  “Are you sure she couldn’t sabotage a car? Aren’t you two always going on about how Amy likes cars and knows about them?”

  “Why, Hoskins,” Amy said hiding her rage with humor. “I’m touched you paid attention to their talk about me. Are you going to take me to dinner sometime?”

  Hoskins reddened, and this allowed Ryan to ask a question. “We know Lemon was alive yesterday day, and that his crash occurred slightly before seven this morning. Do you have an alibi for last night?”

  Amy paled, and Heather cursed inside her head. Of all the nights that Amy didn’t sleep over, it had to be the night a crime that could be blamed on her happened.

  “Jamie left around eight-thirty. Maybe nine. Then I was alone all night. I went to bed early. I didn’t even do anything online or on my phone that you could trace.”

  “Well then,” Hoskins said. “I think we have a strong suspect for murder.”

  Chapter 7

  Sleepovers were normally a joyous time at the Shepherd residence, but this night’s festivities were definitely subdued. There were no dinosaur reenactments and not as many lighthearted laughs.

  Heather knew that Amy was down in the dumps when she didn’t recommend Beaches as that night’s entertainment. It did allow for Eva to suggest an old time dinosaur movie to watch that might not have been a classic but was enjoyable for Lilly.

  “It wasn’t Jurassic Park, but I liked it! I wonder if I could make some dinosaurs out of clay and have them march around like that. Maybe I could make a movie too.”

  “We could be your damsels in distress.” Leila joked, pretending to faint from approaching dinosaurs. Eva tried to join in, but couldn’t stop laughing. Even Amy joined in a chuckle with this display.

  “But even if I ever do make a movie, I don’t want you to think that I don’t like writing. Especially on my pink typewriter. That’s my most favorite thing.”

  “It’s all right,” Heather assured her with a hug. “You can like writing and dinosaurs and making movies. It’s great to have multiple interests.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Lilly said after thinking about it. “After all, you can make donuts and solve crime and be the best mom.”

  Heather’s heart warmed. However, she wasn’t going to let these sweet sentiments distract her from her mission of bedtime. She brought her daughter upstairs and tucked her into bed. She smiled as she realized another perk about having Eva and Leila stay with them was that after all the excitement, Lilly was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Heather kissed her forehead and headed back downstairs.

  The topic of conversation had switched to Eva and Leila’s plans for the house.

  Eva was saying, “Though I suppose we shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves. I’m not sure exactly how far the insurance check will stretch.”

  “Then I suppose we might not be able to install a pool there,” Leila said with feigned heartbreak. “That’s a shame. I was so looking forward to having an attractive pool boy keep it clean.”

  “There are only a few things I need to make it home. Provided they survived the fire. My mother’s mirror. That’s a real antique now. And my wedding photos.” Eva said, “But the most important thing for making it home is that we stay together.”

  “Of course. After finding a best friend like you, wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Or attractive pool boys.”

  They giggled. Heather felt a pang of guilt as they began setting up their bedding for the night. The blowup mattress couldn’t be comfortable for an extended period of time. However, she didn’t think she could fit anything larger inside her living room.

  She joined Amy who was also helping to set up the nighttime arrangements. Amy was much quieter than usual. Lemon’s death and his implied accusation must be weighing on her.

  Heather fluffed a pillow, making a quiet resolve to fix things for these people that she loved so dearly. She wasn’t sure how to fix everything but finding out who had really killed Inspector Lemon seemed like a good start.

  She was pleased that Ryan came home shortly after bidding goodnight to her older friends. Amy was brushing her teeth, so she had a moment to give her husband a proper welcome-home kiss.

  “Is that because you’re happy to see me? Or because I brought part of the case file home with me?”

  “Both,” she winked. She hadn’t realized that was what he was holding but happily opened it at the kitchen table. She looked at the pictures.

  “It’s hard to tell from these crash photos,” she said. “But this was probably a nice looking car beforehand. Did you track down where it came from?”

  “It’s still listed as belonging to a used car lot, but it could have been in the process of transferring to his name.”

  “It still feels strange to me. Did you look into his old car? One that might have been towed by the town?”

  “Yes. And a real junky one too. He definitely needed a new car.”

  “Was there anything in the new car or on him that could give us a clue as to what happened?” She said, looking at the evidence pictures to confirm what he might answer.

  “Not so lucky. His wallet had the basic cards you’d expect and no cash. He did have a lock picking set on him, but he might have carried that around because he thought a private investigator should. You don’t carry one around, do you?”

  “No. Amy and I aren’t ones for breaking and entering. We’re not ones for sabotage and murder either.”

  “I know that,” Ryan said.

  Amy joined them, and Heather leaped to her feet to show her the pictures, brandishing the first one she grabbe
d: one of a car key with a fancy blue top where the hand would hold it.

  “We’re already working on it. We’re going to catch the person that did this. We’ll find justice for Lemon and clear your name.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about this, but you can’t show her those pictures. She can’t be involved in this investigation.”

  “But you know she didn’t do it.”

  “I know it because I know her. And I know this will all get sorted out soon, but the evidence is piling up against her. I’d be a terrible cop if I let a suspect look at the evidence.”

  “So instead you’ll just be a terrible friend,” Amy countered.

  “That’s not fair,” Heather said to Amy.

  “Sure, gang up on me! It’s not like a dead guy already did that today.”

  “Amy, please. I’m not against you,” Ryan said. “But please think about what you would do in my shoes.”

  Amy relaxed enough to ponder this and eventually said, “I would never wear such dull manly boots.”

  Peace seemed to be made and Ryan thanked her. “Thank you. I know you both don’t like this, but it’s what we have to do. If it looks like we’re not following the rules, it could affect your future working with the Hillside Police. And if it looks like we covered up something that Amy did, it could affect all your past cases too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That if looks like we’re not up to the letter of the law on this case, a lawyer might make the case that there was an error in a previous case you worked on too.”

  “Meaning a murder could be set free?” Heather gasped.

  “I can’t deal with this tonight,” Amy said. “I’m going to head home.”

  “Wait. I don’t want you to leave. Not like this.”

  “It’s fine. I’m not going to be fun company tonight anyway.”

  “Are you okay on your own?”

  “What is someone going to do? Frame me for murder again?”

  Heather saw Amy out and then returned to face Ryan. She was angry, but she also knew it wasn’t his fault and didn’t want to take it out on him. She decided to ask the one question he could answer.

  “Why did you show me the case file if I can’t investigate?”

  “You can still help investigate. And you should! You have an airtight alibi for last night. You have four people to verify where you were last night, one of them being a cop. And no one wants to find the guilty person more than you.”

  Chapter 8

  Heather suppressed a sigh. She was not looking forward to her upcoming interview. Firstly, she knew it was going to be strange talking to potential suspects and witnesses without Amy there. She was quite capable of questioning them on her own and had done it in the past. However, working in tandem with her bestie was definitely preferred. With two sets of eyes on the scene, one of them might catch a clue that the other missed. They had different speaking styles and had found a nice balance when working together to convince suspects to talk. Amy’s jokes could put a suspect at ease, or it might distract them while Heather asked the real hard-hitting questions. It also felt nice to have a friend with you if there was a chance the person you were talking to was a murderer. It made sense why cops always worked with a partner.

  She knew that Amy was disappointed to be left out of this investigation. Heather had to keep reminding herself that she wasn’t betraying her friend by working a case without her but was, in fact, helping her. Amy was annoyed with the situation, but not with her. She hoped.

  The second reason she dreaded this interview was because it was at Uncle George’s used car lot, a lot that she was hoping to see little of. Oh well, if it would help Amy she would interview a hundred sleazy salesmen.

  She entered the dealership building and memories of her previous interview flooded her mind. She felt déjà vu as she was greeted by Uncle George himself in a similar manner as last time. He still had a distinctive big, curled mustache, a cowboy hat on his head, and a salesman’s toothy smile.

  “Welcome to Uncle George’s Pre-Owned Cars. How can I help ya, milady?”

  He still pronounced “uncle” as “unca.” Heather missed her bestie’s humor at this moment but decided to get straight to business. She wondered how long it would take Uncle George to recognize her.

  “You can answer a few questions about a car that left your lot recently, Mr. Alvarez. And you can call me Mrs. Shepherd.”

  Recognition flashed in Uncle George’s eyes, but he kept his grimace to himself. “Of course. Anything I can do to help the police and their friends.”

  A mechanic entered the room looking even more oily than Uncle George, both in personality and in motor oil on his coveralls.

  “Not now, Otis.” Uncle George said, “I need to show Mrs. Shepherd some files right away.”

  The mechanic nodded, slipped a blue key into his pocket and sauntered off. Before Heather had a chance to say anything else, Uncle George had whisked her off to his office.

  “Now which car are you interested in?” He asked as he began taking out some files.

  She could have just told him the model number but took the more dramatic route. She showed him a crime scene photo of the wrecked car.

  “This one,” she said.

  Uncle George’s smile was still pasted on, but he began to look nervous. “Why are you looking into this accident?”

  “Because we’re not sure it’s an accident. The car was tampered with. I’m trying to determine where.”

  “It certainly wouldn’t have been here. All our cars are in prime used condition. What sort of business model would it be if I let dangerous cars off my lot? No one would buy from me. And I resent the implication that you think I don’t care about my customers’ safety. My customers are like family to me.”

  It was hard to take the nice sentiment too seriously, as he played with his mustache like an old-timey melodrama villain.

  “I also wanted to make sure that it was Mr. Kelly Lemon who took the car. That it wasn’t stolen or anything like that.”

  “Stolen? If a car were stolen, I’d report it to the police, little lady—Mrs. Shepherd.” He buried his nose in a file and retrieved a form. “Look here. This shows that Mr. Lemon took the car.”

  Heather did look at the form. “It’s barely filled out. It only had his name and the car.”

  “He hadn’t officially bought it yet. We’ve started letting customers take a car home for a day to see how driving it as part of their routine would be. It also protects us from rumors that a used car is a faulty car.”

  “Letting customers borrow cars is a common practice?”

  “Around here, it is. We started a few months ago. Sales improved.”

  “I’m still not sure Mr. Lemon could have afforded a new car.”

  “We do have very generous payment plans here,” Uncle George started, but then wisely reigned in his sales pitch. “If it will make you feel better I can call in my sales team.”

  Uncle George pulled in his two associates. Heather read their nametags. There was the baby-faced “Tim” and the curvy “Rita.” Both looked confused about this meeting with Heather who didn’t look like she was interested in buying a car.

  “Mrs. Shepherd is a private investigator and is looking into a sale we made. Now when was this?”

  “The day before yesterday,” Heather supplied.

  “That was my day off. My mom’s birthday,” Tim said. “Though I did come in early yesterday to make up for it. I helped Otis test and move the cars around the lot.”

  “Rita must have handled the transaction.”

  “It was so busy the other day. I helped so many people. I must have helped with the one you’re talking about, but I’m not sure what I can remember. There were so many customers.”

  Heather showed her the picture of the car.

  “Such a shame,” Rita said. “But yes, I believe we let this car off the lot.”

  “For an extended test drive. One of our borrowers.
” Uncle George prodded, and Rita nodded.

  “You’re sure it was a Kelly Lemon who took it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure that was her.”

  “Kelly Lemon is a man.”

  “Oh my goodness. I must be confusing my Kellys. Yes, there was a man who took that car. And a woman bought a cute little VW Bug. It was just so busy that day. Tim wasn’t around to help.”

  “Had any of you met Mr. Lemon before he came in for a car?”

 

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