by Cindy Bell
“You look worn out,” Bekki said with sympathy as he collapsed onto the couch beside her.
“The crime scene was difficult to document,” he admitted with a slight shake of his head.
“Did Larry tell you what really happened?” Bekki asked.
“He told us that John was attempting to rob him,” Nick replied and settled his gaze on hers. “So far we haven't found anything to prove otherwise.”
“But, you know John wouldn't do that,” Bekki pressed, searching his gaze.
“Bekki, I can't let my personal feelings interfere with an investigation,” he explained with a pained frown. “It goes against my knowledge of John to think of him as a robber, but I have to make my judgments based solely on the evidence, not my own personal opinions of a person.”
Bekki leaned heavily against Nick's shoulder and closed her eyes. She couldn't get the image of John out of her mind. He had just been in her chair the day before, and now they were facing his possible murder. At least, according to her they were.
“But I don’t believe it’s true,” Bekki said firmly.
“Now tell me why it is that you think John wasn't robbing the cleaners?” Nick asked when she opened her eyes.
“He was so nice,” Bekki shook her head slightly. “Besides he said he was going to be rich,” Bekki pointed out. “Why would he need to rob a store if he was going to be rich?”
“Bekki,” Nick sighed quietly. “I know that sometimes it can seem as if people have nothing but good intentions, but criminals are very good at disguising the truth. We checked into John's financial statements and there is no evidence of him being rich, in fact, he was about to lose his own home and had many outstanding debts. All of those things combined can make a man do desperate things,” he added in a lower voice. His eyes were hardened as he spoke, he had very little sympathy for criminals. “Maybe, he announced he was going to be rich because he planned to rob the cleaners.”
“I don’t believe that,” Bekki said sternly, but even as she spoke she recalled the way that John had been peering in the windows of the cleaners even after it was closed, and how irritated he was that morning when he couldn't get inside. Was it possible that he was casing the place? She found that to be very unlikely, but it was possible.
“It may not make sense for the John we know,” Nick agreed as he stroked the back of her hand from the tips of her fingers to the curve of her wrist. “But maybe there was a John that we didn't know,” he pointed out.
Bekki was used to Nick taking a logical stance on things. It was not that he didn't agree with her, he just wanted the evidence to back up his assumptions, while Bekki often let her assumptions seek out the evidence.
“Do you think he did it Nick?” Bekki asked as she tilted her head to look up at him.
“I know, a man is dead,” Nick said calmly, his voice low but full of determination. “His life was ended, and there's nothing simple about that. We're going to get to the bottom of what happened, no matter what it takes, and make sure that his life is treated with respect. Okay?” he kissed her forehead gently. She sighed with admiration as she studied his chiseled features and soulful eyes. Even though it didn't seem possible, every time she looked at him, she seemed to fall a little deeper in love.
“Let's go to bed,” Nick suggested and brushed the hair back gently from her cheek so he could kiss it. “We've both had a long day.”
“Sounds good to me,” Bekki agreed as he pulled her up from the couch. As they curled close to one another in her bed, Bekki's fingertips trailed through the cropped hairs at the back of Nick's neck. She could feel his muscles relaxing beneath her touch. It always touched her to know that he seemed to find as much comfort in her presence, as she did in his.
***
The next morning Bekki headed to the salon with a heavy heart. The street had a strange feel about it as she stepped out of her car and walked towards the salon. There were a few people out opening up their shops but they weren't waving or calling out to one another. There was still yellow police tape surrounding the cleaners, a lot less festive than Christmas decorations.
Bekki unlocked the door to the salon and stepped inside. She looked towards the chair where John had sat when she had cut his hair. She wished she had asked him more about his plans, about the deal he was working on. Maybe if she knew a few more details she could figure out what had really happened to him. To her, the entire crime didn't make sense. But there was also no reason to believe that Larry would intentionally kill John. At least none that she knew of. As she waited for her first customers to arrive for the day she once more contemplated whether or not she should reveal to her mother that she and Nick were considering moving in together. With all of the chaos in town, it didn't seem like the right time.
“Morning, Bekki,” Sammy said as she arrived at the salon, her voice wasn’t as chipper as usual.
“Morning,” Bekki replied with a sad smile.
“I can't believe he's dead,” Sammy whispered and lowered her eyes. She looked a little ashamed.
“Sammy, what's wrong?” Bekki asked as she stepped closer to her. “I know you must be upset, but is something else going on?”
“Well,” Sammy cleared her throat. “I just can't help but think that if I hadn't spilled the coffee on John's jacket he never would have even met Larry. At least, he wouldn't have been trying to rob him.”
“Sammy, we don't know for sure that's what happened,” Bekki reminded her gently. “But no matter what happened, it certainly wasn't your fault that it did.”
Sammy managed a small smile. “I know, it's just hard not to feel a little guilty.”
“Well, you're going to have to stop,” Bekki said sternly as she hugged her friend. “You're a wonderful person, and you had nothing to do with this.”
“Thanks, Bekki,” Sammy smiled a little wider. “At least we have a busy day today to keep our minds off it.”
“Yes,” Bekki said with relief. They had the entire Big Hat Ladies group coming to the salon for styles and touch ups. They were a group of older women that lived in the community and threw parties on occasion just for the purpose of wearing big hats. Christmas was a big event for them, and they all created their hats, trying to outdo each other in a friendly battle. Even though most of their hair would be covered, they still always came in for haircuts.
Within minutes the ladies began arriving. Each one had a different color outfit they were wearing, but they were all various shades of Christmas colors. Bekki seated two of the women and left the others with magazines and catalogs to look through. The three women seated in the waiting area flipped through the glossy pages, but they weren't looking at the pictures.
“What a scandal,” one of the women abruptly announced. “Poor John, he didn't deserve to die in such a way.”
“You're right,” Martha Alba who was one of the mayor's secretaries announced with frustration. “He was a good boy. Why he helped me sell my house when I wanted to move into something smaller. He didn't even charge me any fees, and he fixed my shutters for me. What would a man like that be doing robbing a store?”
'Well, Martha,” Hattie O'Neal who ran the convenience store in town, the one that Bekki’s dad used to own, said in her gritty smoker's voice. “You have to remember, that we don't know everything about everyone. Maybe he wasn't as good a man as we thought.”
“No, he was a good man,” Brenda Paultren called out from where she sat while Bekki combed through her hair. “I know he was. Once I had a little trouble getting into the grocery store. My hip just locked up out of nowhere. I was too far from the car to get back to it, and too far from the store to call for help. If he hadn't walked up to me when he did and helped me to the sidewalk I would have collapsed right there on the pavement. He stayed with me until my husband arrived and even offered to take me to the hospital. He was a very good man, not a devious bone in his body,” she said firmly.
“You can't know that for sure,” Hattie warned, and looked between t
he women as she lowered her voice. “You know times are hard. It's not easy when you don't have a guaranteed income, and the poor boy didn't have much family to speak of, as far as I know. He probably just needed a little financial help, and didn't expect that Larry was going to be armed. Surprise, surprise,” she announced.
“Oh, Hattie,” the woman beside her said in a whisper of annoyance. Ms. Martin, as she was known by everyone in town, never said much of anything. If she did speak, it was always in a quiet and demure voice and never crossly. But when she looked over at Hattie she had narrowed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “You shouldn't speak ill of the dead,” she warned.
“The dead?” Hattie shrugged slightly. “He was killed in the act of a crime, I don't think that's speaking ill of him,” she pointed out.
“It is,” Ms. Martin said firmly, and her voice even raised slightly. “John was a very good person, very kind. He would often mow my lawn for me, without me even asking. He would see that it was a bit high and come over and mow it for me. He never even knocked on the door for a thank you. He knew I was all alone, and he made sure I never felt alone,” she sniffled slightly as she pulled a tissue out of her purse. “All that has changed now.”
“I'm sorry Ms. Martin,” Hattie offered with a frown. She patted her friend's hand gently. “I didn't realize how much you cared for him.”
“It isn't so much that,” Ms. Martin said in her quiet voice. “I mean I do care for him, but it's so wrong. This whole thing is wrong. John never did anything to hurt anyone, why would that suddenly change?”
“Maybe it was a medical condition,” Martha suggested solemnly. “Some people say that if your blood sugar gets all off, then your whole personality can change.”
“Well, no matter what happened,” Bekki said, interrupting the stream of steady gossip. “Nick and the rest of the police will get to the bottom of it.”
“I'm sure they will,” Hattie said with confidence. “You know my boy is on the force, and he says that Nick is the best detective he's ever worked with,” she beamed proudly at Bekki as if this made them as close as family.
“I'm sure Nick feels just as lucky to work with your son,” Bekki replied with a kind smile. She noticed Sammy was very quiet and added. “Morris, is a fantastic investigator also. Nick usually relies on him for just about everything.”
“Oh that's right, Morris,” Hattie nodded. “He's a good boy too. We're very lucky to live in such a kind and caring community.”
“Well, it was,” Martha pointed out with a slight huff. “With such crimes being committed it's going to be hard to feel safe anymore.”
“Oh, don't think that way,” Bekki admonished tenderly. “Harroway is still the safest little town I know of. These things happen all over the world, you know.”
“Well, you should know,” Hattie pointed out. “You've been to the most dangerous city in the world!”
Bekki laughed at that and shook her head. “I don't think New York City is the most dangerous in the world, Hattie,” she corrected respectfully.
“But it is dangerous,” Ms. Martin said firmly. “Weren't you ever afraid living there, Bekki?”
“Well, I decided that I needed to learn how to protect myself, just in case,” Bekki explained. “So I took some martial arts classes in self-defense. It makes a big difference when you know how to defend yourself.”
“Oh really?” Ms. Martin asked. “Well, maybe you should teach us, Bekki,” she smiled warmly.
Bekki looked between the five expectant faces of the older women. She had never considered teaching anyone.
“I don't know if I'm qualified for that,” she laughed. “But I'll mention it to Nick, I'm sure the police department would be happy to start a self-defense class for the community.”
Ms. Martin raised one hand in the air and swung it downward in a karate chop. “I'll tell you one thing, the only person I'd want to take down is that Larry,” she said with a huff that was very unlike her. Her eyes misted as she settled her hand back in her lap. While the others continued to gossip on about their holiday plans, Ms. Martin stared wistfully off into space. Bekki could tell that she truly had lost a friend, and she knew that if she didn't get to the bottom of it, Ms. Martin would be left defending John's honor. It wasn't right, she thought inwardly, and she couldn't simply stand by and let it happen.
Chapter Four
Every day Nick fielded several calls from Bekki as she waited for the forensic evidence to be processed.
“Bekki, there's no evidence that Larry was doing anything criminal,” he finally admitted. “Everything points to John being there for the wrong reasons. There's even evidence that he charged towards Larry, just as Larry described. There's nothing I can pin on Larry.”
“But Nick, you know that John didn't do this,” Bekki growled with frustration.
“What I know doesn't matter,” he reminded her and then sighed. “Bekki, why don't you try focusing on the Christmas brunch? Take your mind off things for a little while. There's nothing you can do about this, and if something comes up, you'll be the first to know,” he assured her. Bekki tightened her grip on the phone and tried not to fume. She knew that Nick meant well, but there was nothing more infuriating than being told not to investigate something.
“I'll do my best, Nick,” she assured him and sighed as she hung up the phone. She was alone in the salon as the last of her afternoon customers had already left for the day. She had sent Sammy home early since there were only a few clients still booked in. She knew that there were any number of things she could spend her time on, such as extra cleaning, or inventory, but she couldn't bring herself to focus on it. Larry's Cleaners had remained closed since the incident. People stopped by to stare into the dark windows with morbid curiosity.
The rest of the street had been lined with Christmas lights and decorations, and the plain storefront of the cleaners stood out. She had been so looking forward to the holiday but now her stomach clenched. She was finding it difficult to look forward to Christmas brunch, knowing that a man who she believed could be a murderer was completely free. She decided she would take a drive by John's house. She wanted to see it for herself. Maybe there was something inside that the police had overlooked. Even though they were very thorough, Bekki sometimes noticed tiny details that might otherwise go unseen. She closed the shop up for the day and called her father.
“Hi Bekki, any news?” he asked anxiously. He had been calling her as obsessively as she had been calling Nick.
“I'm afraid not,” Bekki replied with defeat. “At least not news that helps the case. Dad, do you know John's home address?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure,” he replied, and then hesitated. “Why?”
“Oh, I just thought I'd take a spin by and make sure that it's not getting vandalized or anything. You know how people can be,” she pointed out.
“Bekki, I know when you're lying,” he chuckled as if it was the cutest thing that she might attempt to deceive him. “Why don't you pick me up and I'll go with you?” he suggested.
“Dad, I appreciate that,” Bekki replied sheepishly, feeling like a little girl caught in a lie. “But I think I better go myself. I promise I'll be careful.”
“All right,” he sighed and rattled off the address for her. “Text me when you get there, and text me when you leave,” he made her promise.
“I will,” she answered and hung up the phone. As Bekki drove to John's house she noticed that many of the houses in the small town were decorated. The spirit of Christmas was really starting to spread from home to home. It had yet to snow, but that was not unusual for Harroway. The temperatures did not always get low enough for more than a light dusting. But she had noticed that it was colder than normal so far this year.
She recalled ice-skating with Trevor in New York, the hot chocolate, and the amazing Christmas displays. Even though those moments had been precious to her, the sight of street after street of sparkling lights and snowmen blowing in the light wind w
armed her deeply. In fact when she reached John's house it was the only house that wasn't decorated. She pulled around the corner of the street and parked alongside another house, so that if anyone drove by they wouldn't notice her car in the driveway. When she climbed out of the car she glanced around, checking to be sure that no one was out walking that might recognize her. She didn't want any attention as she did not exactly have a key for John's house. She texted her father to let him know that she had arrived, then she stepped up on the front porch.
John's house had its mailbox beside the door. She could see that the mailbox had been stuffed full. She reached out and pulled out the handful of envelopes. Each one was marked with red past due stamps. She frowned, as this did not exactly bode well for John's innocence, but it didn't change her mind in the least. She tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. With a frown she began fumbling along the top of the doorframe, searching for a ‘hide a key.’ All she found were some cobwebs that caused her to shudder. She was just about to turn around and walk away when she noticed that the planter on the corner of the cement porch had left scuff marks from being moved around. She crouched down and slid the planter to the side revealing a key. She snatched it up and pushed it into the lock of the front door. The door opened easily and she quickly stepped inside.
The inside of the house was very neat and quaint. The furniture was simple but went well with the home's décor. She noticed that the kitchen was spotless, and there were no dishes in the sink. It seemed to be important to John to keep things neat, so that spilled coffee on his jacket had probably upset him. Nothing seemed out of place, and of course everything had already been combed over by the police on their initial search.
