A Deadly Discovery

by J. C. Kenney

  I didn’t envy the man.

  “Say, Brent, would it be possible for me to have a moment with Allie alone?”

  “Sure. Sammy could probably use a stretch of the old legs. Come on, buddy.”

  When I offered Matt some of my calzone, he declined and took out his notebook.

  “First things first. I want to thank you for what you did. It’s good to have Valerie’s murderer behind bars.”

  “Just doing what had to be done.”

  “I appreciate that. I have to say something, though, just between you and me.” He tapped his fingertip on the notebook. “Don’t ever try to pull a stunt like that again without giving me a heads-up. People could have been hurt, and not just you. Got it?”

  “I do. And I’m sorry. I regret putting you in that situation. I didn’t see any other options.”

  He crossed his arms and gave me a long, penetrating look. I’d seen it before. He used it on the twins when they were telling him a fib. Inevitably, they crumbled under the unrelenting glare of their father.

  What I’d just told him was the absolute truth. There would be no crumbling. Not even the tiniest fidget.

  Eventually, he let out a long sigh as he rubbed his temples.

  “Fine. I guess I have no choice but to accept what you’re telling me at face value. Indulge me, though. I was keeping a close eye on your movements around the room.”

  “And everyone’s reactions, I assume?”

  Matt was a good cop, after all. His attention to detail was one of the things I’d been counting on.

  “Oh, yeah. It wasn’t a coincidence that you spent so much time right behind Ted and Dak, was it?”

  “Nope.” I took a drink of my wine. The semi-sweet elixir calmed me as it passed over my taste buds. Once again, I repeated the mantra, Everything’s going to be okay.

  “I used that tactic to make Ted nervous, uncomfortable. Up the pressure, as it were.”

  “Clever. Be honest with me, though. That was an impressive story. How of much of it did you really know?”

  And there it was. Eventually, someone was going to put that question to me. It warmed my soul, like the evening sun was warming my face, that I had an easy, and honest, answer.

  “I knew all of it. The problem was a lack of proof. No direct evidence, to use your parlance.”

  “So, you decided to put on a big charade. If you don’t mind me saying so, that was a pretty big chance you took. You would have been in a lot of hot water if it backfired.”

  “You’re not wrong.” I refilled my wineglass. “To me, it was a risk worth taking. Honestly, I thought the only way to catch him before he manufactured a reason to get out of town was to bait a confession out of him.”

  I kept the fact that I got the idea from Calypso to myself. It would be a secret between us girls.

  Regardless, it was time to put my cards on the table.

  “Look at it from my perspective, Matt. I know, as law enforcement, your hands are tied on certain things. Even if you guys knew for certain Ted was the murderer, without probable cause, there was no way you were going to get a DNA sample from him. My accusation wouldn’t hold up in front of a judge. Ted’s a smart dude. Eventually, he’d get wind of the match from the library program. He’d know his grandma attended and put one and one together. Once he figured that out, there was no way he was going to be sloppy enough to leave any potential DNA evidence around.”

  “We might have caught him another way. The Rushing Creek PD may be small, but we’re not without our resources.”

  “No doubt about it. My concern was that he’d take advantage of that delay to put his affairs in order and get out while the getting was good. He could’ve moved his money into an offshore account, gotten the wife and kids together, told them they’re going on a surprise trip, and boom. He’d be long gone to the Cayman Islands before you could lay a hand on him.”

  Matt scratched his chin. “You read way too many thrillers. That’s a pretty far-fetched scenario.”

  “Maybe so, but Connie had waited twenty years for justice. I was going to do everything I could to make sure it wasn’t delayed any longer. I’d promised her, after all.”

  “Well, I have to tip my hat to you. Once again, you pulled it off. If there’s a next time, do me a favor. How about you bring things to a conclusion in a less-dramatic fashion.”

  “Deal.” That was a favor would be more than happy to honor.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  One of the things I always found fascinating about solving a crime was how, in the blink of an eye, life went back to normal.

  For most folks, at least.

  When I got home from Marinara’s, I still had to feed Ursi and clean out her litter box. There were phone calls to return, emails to answer, and clothes to wash.

  The following day, the sun still rose, bathing Rushing Creek in all its intense summer glory. The storm had finally blown through in the night, giving the area a thorough cleansing.

  Meanwhile, I had pressing agent work. Two editors sent me offers on the same manuscript. It was so delightful communicating that news to my client that I smiled all morning.

  Late that afternoon, Kim Frye called me to discuss the “Showdown at the Pub,” as people were calling it. The interview lasted for a half hour, then she had to go so she could meet a deadline. Just like that, life went on.

  Because that’s what life does.

  Despite how much we want to, we can’t pause the clock or wind the hands backward. Time marches on. I had to do the same.

  Getting back to a normal routine also meant an uncomfortable conversation with Mom. She admonished me no less than four times that it wasn’t my job to save the world.

  “Can’t you find a safer hobby, like stamp collecting or, I don’t know, board games like Brent?” There was a challenging tone to her voice, but also a hint of desperation. My mother simply wanted her little girl to be safe.

  “I can’t help it, Mom. I have a knack for this sleuthing thing. You’ve got to admit it, it keeps your life interesting.”

  She laughed. “Thank God I let my hair go gray naturally. Your hobby would have me making trips to the salon for a color every week.”

  We chatted for a while, then the conversation turned to Valerie’s upcoming memorial service. The forecast indicated we were in for perfect weather, so the event was being held at Cobb Memorial Park.

  “Will you be speaking? You’re the hero of the day, after all.”

  Now that the admonishment phase of the conversation was over, the pride in Mom’s voice made me tingly from head to toe. I’d never doubted for a second that Janice Cobb loved me with all her heart. She wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person, though. When she paid you a compliment, you’d earned it.

  “Nobody’s asked me. I’m just gratified I was able to solve the case before the memorial. To be honest, if anyone does, I’ll say no. The day should be about Valerie, and only her.”

  The line was silent. At first, I thought we’d been disconnected. Then Mom took a deep breath. “Times like this are when I wish your father was around to see who you’ve become. He’d be so proud.”

  “Don’t get all mushy on me now. You’ll make me blush.”

  We shared a laugh and promised to look for each other at the service. Luke and Rachel had already promised to be there, too. It made me feel good to know the Cobb family would be out in full to celebrate the life of someone the community had lost too soon.

  • • •

  The day of the event, I slipped an extra supply of tissues into a pocket of my shorts, gave Ursi an extra hug when I kissed her, and headed out the door with a surprisingly light heart. Calypso had helped plan the event. She told me that once Valerie’s murder was solved, the tone of the memorial had shifted. Instead of a call for answers, it was going to be a celebration of the young woman’s life.

  Word had gotten out that Valerie’s sister Annette would be at the service. The town was buzzing with excitement at the news. Welco
me, Annette signs had gone up in every storefront window along the Boulevard. My eyes teared up simply thinking about the development as I knocked on Calypso’s door.

  My jaw dropped when she opened it. Unless she was in her uniform at the Pub, my friend’s color of choice was black. She often accented it with red or white, but obsidian was the main shade in her wardrobe.

  Not today.

  She was in a banana yellow T-shirt, royal blue shorts, and sandals with yellow straps. The shirt featured an artist’s rendition of Valerie’s smiling face with a simple inscription below it:

  Beloved Daughter, Loving Sister, Loyal Friend

  “Before you say anything, yellow and blue were Valerie’s favorite colors. It was the least I could do. Tomorrow, I’m back in black.” She shut the door behind her with a little more force than normal and marched toward the stairs.

  I suppressed a smile. Sometimes, my tough girl assistant couldn’t hide the soft heart under the prickly surface, despite her best efforts.

  The service was held at the park’s gazebo. Members of the community had decorated it with yellow and blue streamers. Potted yellow daisies and blue forget-me-nots had been placed in the planter beds at the structure’s base. The comforting scent of freshly mown grass contributed to an overall aura of peace.

  I gave Luke a fist bump as I congratulated him on the parks department’s great work in preparing the site.

  “Looks great, bro. Well done.”

  “It was the least we could do.” He shrugged. “Twenty years too late. Valerie deserved better.”

  I put my arm around him. “We can’t change the past. You helped change the present, though. You helped me in my investigation, and you made sure the park looks better than ever. Be proud of what you’ve done.”

  Sloane, who was on the other side of Luke, leaned behind him and winked. She’d told me that he’d been struggling with feelings of self-recrimination. I was familiar with the sentiment. The least I could do was to offer him some comforting words.

  The service began with a few words from Connie. She started by thanking the community for its recent support and mentioned a few friends by name for helping her maintain her belief that one day, Valerie would be returned to her. After a few funny stories about Valerie that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd, she ended with a gentle reminder that all members of a community have value, regardless of who they are or where they come from.

  The final comment drew a huge round of applause.

  After that, the three remaining members of the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse read a poem they’d written for Valerie. By the time they finished, not a dry eye was left among the hundreds in attendance.

  Angela then made a short address in her role as mayor. When she finished, she nodded to someone in the crowd.

  “In conclusion, we’d like to unveil a memorial of Valerie that will be displayed in a place of honor at Rushing Creek High School.”

  Ozzy joined her on the platform as a table was brought forward. Whatever he’d crafted was hidden under a yellow tablecloth. The crowd held its breath as the woodworker and mayor each took a corner of the covering. At the count of three, they pulled the cloth back to unveil a stunning woodwork likeness of Valerie. The gathering let out an ooh, then erupted into another round of applause.

  I was happy to join in.

  Brent, who was behind me so as not to impede my view, leaned over my shoulder.

  “Could it be that you’re wrong about the old coot?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about someone.” I let out a small laugh. “It can’t be denied that he’s a wizard with wood. And had a soft spot for Valerie.”

  “Go figure,” Brent said. “Amazing what happens when we get to know people.”

  “Indeed.”

  When the event came to an end, I hung around, hoping to get a closer look at the woodcarving and share a few words with Connie and Annette. A throng had gathered around the women, so I kept myself busy by admiring Ozzy’s incredible work. I was taking photos of it when I noticed him out of the corner of my eye.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you. And thank you for everything else, too.” I meant the words with all my heart. Every single one of them. The man had played a role in helping me track down Valerie’s murderer. He deserved to know I appreciated it.

  He gave me a nod and a small salute, then turned away. The response, while subdued, still gave me hope someday we could become friendly. On this day, hope truly did spring eternal.

  As the well-wishers visited with Connie and Annette, I basked in the warm sun. The two women were the collective center of Rushing Creek’s attention. They deserved every microsecond of it. Lord knew it had taken long enough.

  My heart stopped for a moment, though, when Matt approached them. A man I hadn’t seen in years was by his side. It was Louis Roberson, his father and the former Rushing Creek police chief. The man who had done such a pitiful job investigating Valerie’s disappearance all those years ago.

  Despite my better judgment, I inched closer, eager to hear what Louis had to say.

  The foursome exchanged a few words of greeting, then the older man cleared his throat.

  “Mrs. Briggs, Miss Annette, I humbly apologize for not working harder for your daughter. When your family needed me the most, I failed you. For that, I’m terribly sorry.”

  For a moment, only the melodious call of a nearby cardinal filled the silence. I tensed, ready to intervene, if needed.

  I needn’t have worried. Connie looked the man up and down, drew in a breath, then opened her arms to him. The hug was brief, but powerful. For a moment, the sky turned a brighter shade of blue while a cooling breeze swept away all the anger and despair that had built up over two decades.

  Connie put her arm around Annette. “Thank you, Chief. We accept your apology and forgive you. Valerie’s home now. That’s what matters most.”

  The woman’s grace was admirable. As she turned to me, she looked ten years younger. The dark circles under her eyes were gone. She was even standing a little taller.

  “Annette, here’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Connie guided her daughter to me. “This is Allie. She’s the one who caught Valerie’s murderer.”

  We said hello and exchanged a hug.

  “I wasn’t going to come back, but then Mom told me what you did.” Annette released me so she could wipe away a few tears. “Thank you for that.”

  “I’m happy I could help.” Over Annette’s shoulder, I noticed a handful of reporters with microphones had gathered. “I also want to say thanks to your mom for having faith in me. I have Valerie’s things at my apartment. If you’d like to look at them before you return home, I can drop them off at your mom’s any time.”

  The ladies looked at each other and smiled. “We’d like that,” Connie said. “If you’ll stay and go through them with us.”

  I choked back more tears.

  “I’d like that. Very much.”

  As I turned to go, I noticed a grasshopper at Connie’s feet. I pointed to it and asked the women if they were familiar with the myth of the grasshopper.

  Annette smiled as she put her arm around her mom.

  “I am. A grasshopper can only jump forward, not any other way. According to legend, when one of them appears to us, we’re being asked to jump forward without fear into the next chapter of our lives.” She wiped away a tear. “I think this grasshopper was sent by Valerie. It’s her way of telling us it’s time to move on. To go ahead with our lives without her.”

  We remained silent as the creature leapt from Connie’s foot to Annette’s, and then hopped away into the field of green. Like Annette said, it kept moving forward.

  Connie’s eyes got watery as her gaze followed the little messenger’s progress. Then she hugged one daughter as she nodded to the spirit of the other.

  “Will do, Val. We love you, too.”

  • • •

  Later that afternoon, Brent and I were back at Big Al�
��s, in the exact same seats as when the whole crazy affair began. I sipped on an iced tea while he spooned up the last bits of his chocolate milk shake.

  “Interesting couple of weeks, huh?”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” I looked around. “If I see Maybelle, I’m running away.”

  He laughed as he pulled the stem from a cherry coated in chocolate syrup. “No argument there. So, what’s next for Rushing Creek’s intrepid crime solver? Has anyone approached you about any other cold cases?”

  “No, which is fine by me. The 9/11 Memorial’s only a month away. That’ll keep me plenty busy.”

  “Awesome. Hopefully, it’ll help you put the last couple of weeks out of your mind.”

  I nodded but kept my mouth shut. I’d learned a lot of things investigating Valerie’s murder. One thing stood out among the others. I’d learned the importance of never forgetting the loved ones we’ve lost. We needed to keep them in our hearts and in our minds.

  No matter how long they’ve been gone.

  Books by J. C. Kenney

  The Allie Cobb Mysteries

  A Literal Mess

  A Genuine Fix

  A Mysterious Mix Up

  A Deadly Discovery

  About the Author

  Award-winning and bestselling author J. C. Kenney grew up in a household filled with books by legends like Agatha Christie and Lilian Jackson Braun, so it was no surprise when he found himself writing mystery stories. When he’s not writing, you can find him following IndyCar racing or listening to music. He lives in Indianapolis with his wife, two children, and a cat who is the inspiration for Ursula in the Allie Cobb Mysteries.