Ring In the Year with Murder--An Otter Lake Mystery

by Auralee Wallace

  I walked over to the desk shaking my head. “I don’t know, okay? It could’ve been an accident. Maybe Candace read the text from Grady wrong and—”

  “She didn’t.”

  I whipped my head back around to face Freddie. He was holding a phone. A phone that I was pretty sure wasn’t his.

  “I swiped it from her coat pocket after she tried to check her messages. There’s definitely a text here from Grady saying, Meet me in the boathouse. We need to talk.”

  “I don’t like this,” I said, folding my arms over my waist. “I don’t like this one bit. There has to be some sort of explanation.”

  “Listen, I’m not saying it was Grady—even though the text is from his phone—but someone sent Candace into a building with a running generator and a door that locks itself shut. I think you finally have to admit…”

  I raised an eyebrow at Freddie.

  “… that it’s possible that someone is trying to kill Candace. And in the process they poisoned my dog.”

  I chewed the corner of my thumbnail.

  “The question now is, what are we going to do about it?”

  “Grady didn’t send that text,” I said quickly. “He wouldn’t do that. If he knew Candace was drunk and outside by herself, he would be out there trying to find her.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which means someone is trying to set him up. He didn’t—”

  “I know Grady isn’t behind all this. Just relax,” Freddie said, spreading his hands out. “He doesn’t have the imagination to be a murderer.”

  “He does too. You cut him some slack.”

  “And that’s the problem, right there. Other people are going to think he’s capable of murder too. So, again, what are we going to do about it?”

  “I know exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “Freddie, there are many things I cannot do.”

  He nodded. “I know this to be true.”

  “I can’t find a place to live,” I said, holding up a finger.

  “You have had trouble.” He was still nodding.

  I added another finger. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to have the relationship I want.”

  He tilted his head from side to side. “Probably because you don’t know what that is.”

  “I definitely can’t figure out how to handle men like Bryson,” I said and added another finger.

  “Sweetie, nobody can figure that one out.”

  I threw all my counting fingers out toward him. “I certainly can’t make you figure out your love life.”

  “Are we seriously going back to the whole Bean thing again?” Freddie asked. “Because—”

  “But you know what we can do, Freddie?”

  “Uh-oh, it’s we now.”

  I looked over to the clock above Matthew’s desk. “For the next … two hours and forty-five minutes we can keep Candace alive.”

  Freddie’s eyes darted over my face. “Um … okay.”

  Yes, this was a bit of a reversal. I couldn’t quite believe it myself. But it was looking, more and more, like someone was trying to hurt Candace. And after the conversation I’d had with her outside, I’d be damned if I let anything bad happen to her. She really was a nice person. The way she offered to back off the Arthurs’ place? I’m not sure I would have been able to be that generous if our roles were reversed.

  “So … just so I’m clear,” Freddie said. “Are we letting her die after midnight?”

  “No! But everyone will go home after that, and we’ll make sure Grady knows what’s going on. Stop nitpicking.”

  “And how exactly are we going to keep Candace alive? I mean, we’ve already got people watching her.”

  I raised my eyebrows and shot him a satisfied smile. “We’re going to do better than that. We’re going to find out who is trying to kill her.”

  Freddie smiled back at me. “Are you sure? Like, I mean, you’re completely onboard?”

  “I am.” I pointed another finger in the air. “So help me, Freddie, for whatever is left of this godforsaken year—”

  “Well, that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? I mean, there were some good things about this year. You moved home. We—”

  “Godforsaken!”

  “Okay. Okay. Sheesh.”

  I moved my point from the air to Freddie’s face. “Two hours and forty-five minutes, Freddie. For two hours and forty-five minutes we are going to make good decisions, keep Candace safe, and use everything we have in us not to suck. And if we’re lucky, we might even catch a killer.” I nodded. “We will have justice for Stanley.”

  “Okay,” Freddie said, nodding back. “I’m with you. You know that. I was with you before you were with you. I say let’s do this. And let’s do it right. I am so tired of the murderers always being in control. High five.”

  I slapped Freddie’s palm. “Let’s see if we can ask Candace a few questions before she goes to the hospital. You know, like if she has any enemies—aside from whoever sent her that note. That kind of thing.”

  “Oh, look at you being the detective,” Freddie said, holding the door open for me. “But you know that thing you said about this year being godforsaken?”

  “I didn’t mean us, Freddie.”

  “BFFs forever?”

  “BFFs forever.”

  The Morning After

  “I did not say BFFs forever.”

  “Yes you did.”

  “I never would have said that. Best friends forever-forever? It’s redundant.”

  “You have intimacy problems.”

  “I have intimacy problems? I have intimacy problems?” I might have gone for a third indignant repetition, but the volume of the second nearly killed me. I lowered my voice. “Should we return to the topic of Sean? Or is it still Bean?”

  “Whatever,” Freddie grumbled. “And for the record, your little speech wasn’t as inspirational as you made it sound just now. You weren’t all resolved and Napoleonic-like.”

  “Napoleonic-like?”

  “You know what I mean. You were still all I don’t know if we should be doing this, Freddie.” He used his girliest voice for that. “You know, like you always are.”

  “That’s not how I remember it. I think you’re just jealous.”

  “Jealous? I was the one who was right all along that someone was trying to kill Candace while you were all like Freddie, you’re just upset about your dog.” Again with the voice.

  “I really don’t sound like that.”

  “Whatever. The point is I told you so.”

  “You just love saying that, don’t you?”

  “Told you so.”

  “Are you done?”

  “Told you so.”

  I just looked at him.

  “Okay, I’m done.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Unfortunately, right when our investigation was getting off the ground—like for real, not like earlier—we found Candace had passed out in Matthew’s bed, curled up beside Stanley, with an oxygen mask on her face. She had adamantly refused to go to the hospital, and Dr. Reynolds felt there wasn’t much of a risk seeing as her exposure hadn’t been that long and her vitals were good. As an added bonus Mr. Greer, our old high school custodian, had a spare oxygen tank in his van. He had emphysema. Jessica and Dr. Reynolds were taking turns watching her. So far the official story was that the latch on the door had fallen into the locked position by accident. Freddie and I thought it best to stick to that story until we could talk to Grady. While Grady was skeptical of pretty much every theory Freddie and I had ever come up with, he had also once grudgingly admitted that we had a way of shaking evidence free. Plus he would be more likely to know about any enemies he and Candace might share. Oh! Plus, plus he was sheriff. Couldn’t forget that.

  “You know,” Freddie said as we headed back toward the party. “This disappearing act of Grady’s really isn’t helping his alibi.”

  “Well, he’s got t
o be here somewhere,” I said, scanning the crowd. It wasn’t normally difficult to spot Grady. It was like spotting a supermodel dressed in couture at a mall. He kind of stood out. It was really starting to worry me.

  Freddie took his phone from his pocket. “I’ll get Tyler and his friends on it too, but in the meantime, I’ll search the west side of the house. You take the east.”

  “Got it.”

  We fist-bumped.

  “Go team.”

  Freddie disappeared in the crowd as I scanned the room again. Hmm. Before I left for the less crowded rooms of the house, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to do some asking around. No better people to start with than the twins. They were right where I had left them at the blackjack table. Poor Carl looked kind of worn out. His hair was a bit mussed and his collar was open. Unfortunately for him, I doubted the twins would be vacating their seats any time soon. They were the types that once they had found a comfy spot, they were likely to settle in for a good long time.

  “Hey!” Tweety said when she spotted me. “Finally. Again, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She turned to Carl. “Go get yourself a coffee, kid. We’re just getting warmed up.” She then turned back to me. “So there’s a new rumor going around that you and Candace were wrestling in the snow and then you locked her in a shed.”

  “And by the looks of you,” Kit Kat said, jumping in, “I’m guessing at least part of it is true.”

  I looked down. The hem of my dress was a little worse for wear. The boots didn’t exactly add anything to my outfit either. I had dumped my shoes in Matthew’s room. They were pretty much unwearable. The snow had stretched out all the faux leather.

  “Yes, I was wrestling with Candace in the snow. That’s exactly what happened. Have you two seen Grady?”

  Kit Kat squinted at her sister. “Not in a little while.”

  “He was looking for Candace earlier,” Tweety said. “And he was muttering something about being sent on a wild-goose chase.”

  I sighed. “Look, I need to ask you guys something before I go track him down.”

  They waited.

  I took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching us. Great, now I was turning into Freddie. “Who told you the Candace and Grady rumor? You know, that they were breaking up, and Candace was worried Grady might…” I shook my head. “It’s too ridiculous to even say.”

  They looked at each other again, probably sharing a telepathic moment.

  “Alma, wasn’t it?” Tweety asked.

  “Or was it Marg?”

  “Marg,” I said, chin dropping to my chest. “You were gossiping with the woman who accused you of adultery and murder two falls ago?”

  Kit Kat straightened, looking mildly offended. “Yeah, what’s the big deal?”

  “Life is too short not to forgive your neighbors,” Tweety said before taking a sip of … something. It was fluorescent blue.

  “Especially when they own the only salon in town and have all the best gossip,” Kit Kat added, lifting her own neon-pink drink. They clinked glasses.

  I guess they spotted the look of horror on my face because Tweety held hers up to me and said, “These froufrou drinks aren’t bad. Mine’s an Aqua Blue Cruise.”

  “Pink Passion,” Kit Kat offered, copying the gesture. “That Mrs. Watson sure knows how to run a martini bar.”

  I shook my head. Amid the worry of the twins dying of liver disease, I couldn’t help but wonder how the would-be murderer managed to get the poisoned drink into Candace’s hand—if that was indeed what had happened. I’d have to add that to the list of questions to ask her when she came to. “Right,” I said. “So you’re more forgiving of people than I am, but it’s really important that you remember who you heard the rumor from. Marg? Or Alma?”

  They exchanged another look.

  “I think that’s the thing,” Kit Kat answered while her sister nodded. “They’d both heard the rumor.”

  “From who?”

  Tweety stroked the ends of her loose bow tie as she leaned back in her chair. “Neither said.”

  “Well, do you think you could find out?”

  “Maybe.” Kit Kat scratched her chin while giving me a considering look. “What’s going on? Is this about that whole poison thing earlier? Is someone really after Candace?”

  I sighed. “Are all the details really that important?”

  Tweety’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I think so, yes.”

  “Here’s the thing,” I said, running my hands over my face. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had any makeup left on, and if so, how badly was it smeared? Oh well, at least the look would match my snowmobiling boots. “I am concerned that if I tell you what Freddie and I think we know, you’ll tell everyone here, and that could…” I didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence. It might actually be a good thing if I had Kit Kat and Tweety spread the news that someone was trying to frame Grady for Candace’s murder—like a counterrumor to the original rumor—but I was also pretty sure it could backfire in all sorts of ways. It was hard to articulate those ways other than to say that most of Freddie’s and my plans did backfire, but—Oh! Maybe it would tip the murderer off to our investigation and get us killed. At least that’s what they were always saying on TV. Sounded … possible. My head hurt. “If you tell everyone,” I tried again, “that could be … bad … or not. I’m really not sure.”

  “Did Candace hit you in the head while you were wrestling, honey?” Tweety asked. “You’re not making much sense.”

  “No, she did not hit me on the head. We actually had a really nice talk.” Again, hopefully, a really nice talk that she would remember when sober—I really wanted to make an offer on the Arthurs’ place. And plus, you know, it was nice to have a new friend.

  “Well, I’m not sure we can really be of much help unless we know what’s going on,” Tweety said.

  “She’s right.” Kit Kat dragged her bottom lip through her teeth while shaking her head. “The gossip industry is all about fair trade. You want us to get the good stuff, you got to be willing to give the good stuff.”

  I stared at them both in turn. They had totally just made that rule up because they wanted to know what was going on, but maybe if they did, they’d be extra motivated to help. Unlike my mother, they liked Grady. And more importantly, they had a really solid old-school sense of justice. “Okay, here’s the deal, while I can’t say anything for certain, it is looking more and more possible that maybe—”

  “You want some trimmers for that hedge?” Tweety asked, making her sister cackle.

  “Someone might be trying to kill Candace. And it is possible they’re trying to set Grady up to take the fall for it.”

  Kit Kat’s laughter died.

  “And, I’m willing to bet that whoever has been spreading all the rumors is the would-be murderer.”

  The sisters lifted their glasses in identical motions and took identical sips while staring at me with an intensity that was almost creepy.

  “So…?” I asked. “Will you help me?”

  “Oh, we’ll help you,” Kit Kat said.

  Tweety jabbed a finger down on the table. “Nobody uses the gossip mill for true evil.”

  “The mill is for slightly evil entertainment-type purposes only.”

  “Right,” I said slowly.

  “Plus, I’m glad that we get to be part of an investigation again,” Kit Kat said.

  Tweety nodded. “Yeah, you’ve been freezing us out lately.”

  “Okay, well, good.”

  The twins didn’t move.

  “Can you do it like now?” I asked.

  Tweety frowned. “Like right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we were just getting comfortable,” Kit Kat added. “And it takes a while to break a new dealer in.”

  “Do you want to be part of this investigation or not?”

  Tweety groaned as she lifted herself off her stool. “Fine. Fine. We’re going.”

  “And don’t say anything to
anybody about why you’re asking. We still don’t know what we don’t know.” It suddenly occurred to me that if I wasn’t careful with this information, Grady could end up spending New Year’s in his own department’s jail cell. Yup, that was probably the best reason for keeping all suspicions on the down low.

  “Sure. Sure,” Tweety said. “But in this kind of information swap I wasn’t lying about needing to give the wheels a little grease in return, so what’s your official story for what happened between you and Candace on the back lawn out there?”

  “Say whatever you need to about me to get the information. I don’t care.”

  “Got it,” Kit Kat said.

  “Ooh!” Tweety whacked her sister on the arm. “Maybe we can say they’re thinking of entering one of those polyamorous relationships and—”

  “No,” I said, holding up a hand. “No. Do not say that.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I know what I just said, but I didn’t mean…” I took a deep breath. “You know what? Just get the information. And maybe don’t tell me how you’re going to do it.”

  Kit Kat popped a new cigar in her mouth. “I think that’s best.” She linked arms with her sister. “Let’s roll.”

  “Keep an eye out for Grady too,” I called after them.

  They shot me an identical thumbs-up.

  I looked around the sparkling room filled with happy people in glittering clothes, but there was only one person I wanted to see.

  Where are you, Grady?

  Chapter Twenty-five

  I tried texting Grady again, but he still wasn’t answering. I was almost certain someone had taken his phone. He never would have sent that text to Candace. Sure, whoever took it would have to know his password … but he might not even have one. Grady didn’t use his phone all that much and he certainly didn’t keep any personal information on it. He didn’t trust the security. It was more than a little creepy to think someone else could be sending texts pretending to be him.

  So after spending a minute or two figuring out which way was east, I headed off to search that wing. And yes, it felt pretty presumptuous to go searching Matthew’s house without his permission, but Matthew had to be the most understanding, forgiving, rational man alive. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t hold it against me. Besides, I didn’t have time to try to find both him and Grady. And I was also pretty sure no one was trying to frame him for murder.