Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series
Page 58
“I understand you opened the door?”
“Yes,” she blurted out. “I’m so sorry.”
“What compelled you to open the car door before calling the police?”
“With the door shut, I didn’t realize there was blood on the floor. I didn’t realize he was dead. I wanted to help, but as soon as I opened the door and saw everything...” she trailed off, overcome with emotion.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We have your statement. You can go.”
“Okay,” she said, drawing in a deep breath.
“Maybe Kate can take you home or to Sunshine?” he suggested. “You can come back with Larry later for your car.”
When Carly looked momentarily thrown by the suggestion, Kate explained, “You probably shouldn’t drive until you feel better.”
“Right,” she said.
“What were you doing here so early anyway?” asked Scott.
“I was going to get pancakes. I’d put in an order with Daisy, but when I parked, I noticed the dead man.”
“I see,” he said before giving Kate a kiss on the cheek and starting off for Daisy, who was still giving an elaborate statement to Officer Garrison.
Kate turned to Carly. “Where can I take you?”
“Honestly, I think I need to sit with some coffee, maybe eat a little something. Not here, of course. Daisy completely turned on me!”
Kate hushed her, as they walked to her truck.
“It’s like as soon as she saw me standing next to the sedan she acted like I did it! But if I was the one to discover the body, how would she even know someone was killed out there?”
Kate didn’t have an answer. All she could think was that a man had been killed in the precise location of the parking lot where she could’ve sworn she saw Becky last night.
Maybe her eyes had played tricks on her. Maybe it was all just a strange coincidence, but one thing was true. She had a bad feeling about all of it.
After climbing behind the wheel and waiting for Carly to get settled in the passenger’s seat, Kate started up her truck and pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards Bean There.
Clara, the owner of Bean There was at the forefront of Kate’s mind. Clara had been secretly involved with Clifford Green, even though she was Cookie’s best friend. The twisted love triangle had been a total red herring, however, since Officer Gunther had turned out to be the killer. Regardless, Kate knew Clara obviously cared for Clifford. Kate was not looking forward to breaking the news that he had been killed.
She pulled along the curb in front of Bean There and cued up Meredith Joste’s cell number on her phone as she stepped out and locked her truck.
Meredith’s outgoing voice message came on, and Kate left a brief message explaining that something had come up, but she would be back to work on the patio as soon as she could. When she returned her cell to her pocket and opened the door for Carly, she remembered that Meredith had gone out. Kate might get lucky. If Meredith stayed out all day, she might be able to get away with spending a bit more time with Carly. It looked like her friend would need it.
Kate suggested a table near the windows and waited while Carly got situated.
“It’s on me,” she said. “What would you like?”
“A large coffee and how about a muffin?”
Kate nearly cringed, but managed to say, “I’ll see what Clara has.”
With Cookie dead, she had no reason to believe there would be any pastries for sale here. Cookie had been the baker who supplied Bean There with all of its sweets—and now that she was no longer living, Bean There could very well have been reduced to a straightforward coffee bar.
The line moved quickly, and soon Kate was standing at the counter across from Clara, who looked jumpy and withdrawn.
“Good morning,” said Kate with a sense of gravity, considering that Clara might have already heard the news.
“Hey, sorry. I haven’t been able to get in touch with Clifford.”
Kate really felt for her. Obviously, she hadn’t heard. “Clara—”
“I spoke with him last night, and he said he was going to come over and then he never showed.”
“I have some bad news,” she said.
“Oh no, what?”
Kate noticed one Clara’s baristas hurrying around behind the counter and thought to herself at least Bean There would be covered if Clara needed to rush off to the precinct after hearing what Kate was about to tell her.
“I’m afraid Clifford is dead,” she said in a quiet tone.
“What?”
“Carly and I just found out ourselves,” she went on. “He was found at Daisy’s Luncheonette, or in the parking lot rather. He was behind the wheel of his car.”
Clara slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes went wide.
“I think Scott’s still there.”
“Scott? Why would Scott be there?”
Kate didn’t have to answer. It only took Clara a few seconds to understand that Clifford hadn’t died of natural causes.
“Who would’ve done this?” she asked.
Kate didn’t know, but the fact of the matter was that Clifford was an ex-convict, only recently released from prison. Complicating matters was the amusement park that was being built at the old camping area out east. The Mayor, Dean Wentworth, had reasoned the park would boost the economy, creating construction jobs and then tourism once the park was open. But the fact of the matter was that Dean needed cheap labor, and so the majority of construction workers that had been hired were also ex-cons.
It would seem Rock Ridge was being flooded with bad seeds. Who could’ve killed Clifford Green was anyone’s guess.
“I need to get over there,” she said, stripping the apron off her chest and setting it absentmindedly on the counter. “Mary-Beth?”
The barista turned and smiled, but when she saw the look of concern on Clara’s face, she immediately padded over.
“Can you help Kate? I have to go.”
“Sure,” said Mary-Beth. “Everything okay?”
“No...” she said trailing off. “No, nothing is okay.”
Clara rushed around the counter and slapped the door open, spilling out onto the sidewalk, as Mary-Beth collected the discarded apron, folded it, and asked Kate what she would like.
After paying for two coffees and a few packaged pastries, which looked like the grocery store variety, Kate returned to Carly at the window table and sat.
Carly thanked Kate for the coffee and didn’t so much as glance at the shrink-wrapped Danish on the table. After a minute of holding the silence with her friend, Larry entered the coffee shop and found them.
Kate immediately hopped out of her seat, offering him the chair.
“Oh, that’s okay, Kate,” he said, looking around as though there might be a free seat, but there wasn’t one. The late morning rush of customers was occupying every table.
“Really, I have to get back to Meredith’s. Carly, call me if you need anything, okay?” When she nodded, Kate added, “And don’t worry.”
After giving her friend a squeeze, she walked to her truck, but before she could unlock it, her cell began buzzing in the front pocket of her overalls.
“Jared?” she asked, answering as soon as she saw her son’s number.
“Hey, Mom. I’m at work, and Dean put it in the approval to convert an old storage closet into an office.”
“Meaning?”
It sounded like he was distracted. She could hear him rustling papers at his desk.
“Oh, sorry. It’s a mess over here,” he said like an aside, letting the papers go. “It’s going to be my new office! But it needs to be painted and a few shelves wouldn’t hurt.”
“Congratulations,” she said, though she wondered whether the storage closet had any windows, or if her son would be cooped up in a dark room for ten hours a day.
“Can you come by?”
“I’ll have to check my schedule. This weekend is definitely a possibility.�
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“Okay, great, yeah let me know,” he said then wished her good bye.
As Kate hung up and returned her cell to her pocket, it occurred to her that Dean might be spending money he didn’t have. It was no secret he had high hopes for the amusement park, but all things considered, she doubted it would pull in a dime until it had been up and running for at least an entire summer. All told, it would take possibly a year to build, and if Dean had pushed for the park as his answer to the deficit in Rock Ridge, how could he afford to renovate an old closet?
She was happy for Jared regardless, but something wasn’t adding up.
She made it back to Meredith’s house in no time, parked, and then found the spare key in the flowerpot to the left of the door, just as Meredith had indicated. After keying in, she set the spare on the kitchen counter and then put on a fresh pot of coffee. It was nearly eleven, and having lost a little over an hour between Daisy’s Luncheonette and Bean There, she would have to either work faster on Meredith’s patio to stay on schedule, or stay an additional hour, and with Jason battling depression in Becky’s absence, the thought of being away from her family for even one extra hour was unacceptable.
As soon as the dark roast percolated, she poured a mug, grabbed her toolbox, which she had set on the floor next to the kitchen islet, and crossed through the living room and out the sliding glass door.
With the sun inching up in the sky, the one saving grace was that the bizarrely angled art deco roof was now shading Kate from direct sunlight and created just enough shade for her to work without being uncomfortable.
The hours passed and soon the afternoon heat was easing up. Kate had nearly finished the patio, and part of her wanted to push through, work extremely late, and get it done, but she knew doing so would only burn her out, making her far less productive tomorrow. So she organized the remaining tiles she had to lay down, collected her tools, placing them in her toolbox, and then locked the sliding glass door as soon as she stepped inside with her toolbox in hand.
When she reached the kitchen, she washed the mugs she had used and returned them to the cabinets. Meredith still hadn’t come home, so she dialed her, but again got her outgoing voice message.
She left a brief message explaining she was finished for the day and would lock the front door and leave the key in the flowerpot where she found it.
After doing just that, Kate set her toolbox in the bed of her truck and climbed in behind the wheel. As soon as she got buckled in, her cell vibrated.
“Finally,” she sighed, expecting Meredith’s number to be flashing across the LCD screen. But it was Amelia Langley, Becky’s mother. “Amelia?”
“Yes, Kate, I caught you,” she said urgently. “Can you come to the house? I’ve already called Scott.”
Kate gulped. The last call she had received asking her to quickly go someplace was because Carly had found a dead body. And she was dreading hearing the same from Amelia.
“Is this about Becky?”
“It is,” she said gravely. “But it’s not what you think.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Kate started her truck and peeled out, pressing the gas pedal down as far as it would go.
If anything, she hoped that Becky had been found. It would confirm her hunch that she had seen Becky outside of Daisy’s Luncheonette the other night, but hoping such a thing sent her stomach twisting with knots.
If Becky was in Rock Ridge and she had been in the parking lot of Daisy’s last night, did she have something to do with Clifford’s murder?
Before Kate could go there, thinking the worst, she pulled into Amelia and Lance Langley’s driveway and noted Scott’s truck was already parked along the curb.
She jumped out, racing towards the front door, which flew open the second she neared it. Amelia was on the other side. She looked so downtrodden and exhausted that Kate expected her to tell her Becky had been found dead.
But all Amelia did was offer her the piece of paper in her hand.
Taking it, Kate tore her gaze from Amelia and was immediately confronted with what she read on the sheet:
‘I have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, it’s going to cost you.’
Chapter Three
Scott was seated at the head of the dining room table where the family had gathered. Lance sat adjacent to the police chief, and Jason was on the other side. Amelia seemed too nervous to sit, though Lance indicated for her to take the chair next to him. It wasn’t until Kate lowered into a chair beside Jason that she realized Officer Garrison was standing in the room.
“What are we supposed to do?” Lance asked through a clenched jaw that told Kate he was barely holding it together.
“It’s a ransom note, isn’t it?” asked Amelia, bewildered.
Kate glanced down at the note again. It was handwritten and technically was not demanding money.
Scott took a deep breath then said, “We wait.”
“Wait?” Lance looked furious.
“It is a ransom note,” he confirmed. “But it doesn’t indicate an amount, or a time and location to make the exchange. Cash for Becky. So we have no choice but to wait.”
“It also didn’t say not to contact the police,” Kate pointed out, which she found odd.
Hearing that, Amelia’s jaw dropped, as she gasped. “What if the kidnapper sees the cruiser outside? What if he knows we told the police?”
“Try not to panic,” said Scott, who was glaring at Kate for alerting the Langley's to this complication. “I think it would be wise to put a tap on your land line here, as well as on your cell phones. If the kidnapper calls, then we can try to trace his or her location and hopefully get a jump on where Becky is being kept.”
Amelia and Lance were in instant agreement, nodding emphatically that this would be all right.
“Where did you find the note?” asked Kate, who had been keeping her eye on Jason. Not that she had ever been in this position before, but there was something implicitly hopeful about it. As soon as the kidnapper told the Langley’s the ransom amount, they would get Becky back. Kate would’ve thought Jason would be optimistic, but instead he was sitting in a hunch and avoiding eye contact with everyone.
“It was slipped under the front door,” said Lance. “I noticed it as I was about to leave.”
“And what time was that?” asked Scott.
“I was working in the home office until about four then planned on driving out to the mustard factory.”
Officer Garrison made a note on his notepad then tucked it into the breast pocket of his uniform.
Scott indicated he would like the ransom note, so Kate quickly took a cell phone photo of it then passed it over to him.
She found it highly curious that it was handwritten. If the kidnapper had been careless enough to write by hand, maybe they had been careless enough to touch the note, leaving fingerprints. She asked Scott about this possibility.
To her surprise, Jason answered. “It’s Becky’s handwriting.”
Scott added, “We’ll dust it for prints, but it’s more likely that the kidnapped had Becky write the note.”
Again, Jason snapped, “It is Becky’s handwriting.”
Scott raised his brows at Kate, concluding the matter so as not to ruffle any more of Jason’s feathers.
“Let me walk you out,” he told her, which she nearly objected to, arguing she wasn’t going anywhere without her son, until she realized he wasn’t asking her to leave, but suggesting they have a moment to themselves.
Outside, Scott shut the door so they wouldn’t be overheard and walked with her a few paces down the walkway.
“I know you’re not going to want to hear this,” he began. “But this isn’t adding up.”
“What isn’t adding up?” she asked impatiently, but didn’t give him a chance to explain. “We’ve all been wondering what Becky’s abductor was after since he didn’t steal anything from their house. Now we know. He wants money, just like we thought he might.
”
“So rather than call or mail the note, he dropped it off in person?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Amelia told me that Jason just happened to be on the block when she called him after getting the note.”
“You’re not suggesting Jason had something to do with this, are you? Because if you recall, I found the implication very offensive the last time you brought it up.”
“Look Kate, we’re taking this seriously. We’re going to proceed on good faith that as soon as the kidnapper gives the Langley’s a time and place, and tells them the amount, we’ll go through with the exchange. But we’re going to handle this cautiously, and make every effort to catch the guy—”
“As you should,” she interjected.
“I just want you to be prepared that the outcome might...”
He didn’t have to finish his thought. It was clear Scott expected Jason to be ferreted out as the person behind this.
“We looked into their finances,” he went on to further his argument. “They were doing terribly financially. And it concerns me that Jason hasn’t been working.”
“He’s an anxious wreck. How can he work? His fiancée is missing.”
“I looks to me like he’s acting like he’s got money coming to him, like he knows he doesn’t have to work.”
“Whatever you think it looks like,” she countered, “could you please keep it to yourself and your department? Jason doesn’t need the added stress of being falsely accused, not by his own family.” She turned for the door, but Scott grabbed her arm. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t act like you’re doing the right thing here when clearly your instincts are way off.”
She could tell by the look on his face that he knew he wouldn’t be able to apologize or get her to understand. Releasing her, he stepped back and sighed, but she had already started up the walkway, eager to join Jason at the table and hopefully get him home without incident.
As soon as she stepped through the door, Jason met her in the entryway.
In a low tone, he asked with such a sense of urgency that she feared he had overheard them, “What was he saying to you out there?”