Killer Dress: A Small Town Cozy Mystery (Shot & Framed Book 1)

by Nancy McGovern

  “Breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Irma smiled. “It was just a fluke, though. Your mom’s going to beat me next round. How’s your dad?”

  “Not too bad,” Nolan said. “I’m trying to convince him to buy an iPad, but he hasn’t graduated from his desktop PC yet.”

  “Hello, Irma.” Bluebell nodded at her.

  “Bluebell Knopps.” Irma shook her head, stood up, and embraced her in a hug. “I heard everything. Terrible! I don’t know what Catherine was thinking, arresting you like that. Everyone knows it can’t be you.” But there was a sliver of doubt in her eyes as she said it.

  “Right.” Nolan coughed. “Irma… we wanted to talk to a guest of yours. Um…”

  “Selena Boyer,” Bluebell said.

  Irma cocked her head. “No one by that name here.”

  “Blue…” Nolan shook his head. From his pocket, he took out the scrap of paper the secretary at Dowell Industries had given him. “Her name is…” He squinted. “Martina Murphy?”

  “But then, who’s Selena Boyer?” Bluebell asked.

  “Who?” Nolan looked confused.

  “Well, we do have a Martina Murphy here,” Irma said, “Sorry I can’t help you with the other girl, dear.”

  “That’s okay.” Nolan turned back to her. “We’d like to speak to Martina, if she’s willing.”

  “Oh… she isn’t here, I think she went to town,” Irma said. “But she promised she’d be back for tea. I’m baking my red velvet cake with rainbow sprinkles. If you wait an hour, you can meet her. Come on inside, I’ll give you a slice.”

  Nolan spent the next hour playing scrabble and chomping on cake, while an exhausted Bluebell fell asleep on the couch inside. Irma whispered to Nolan, “She going to be all right?”

  Nolan looked at her, sighed, and said, “Too early to tell. She’s holding up beautifully, though. She’s a brave one. As long as she doesn’t start brooding too much...”

  “She is brave. Takes after her mom.” Irma nodded. “When I was 14, I used to be bullied pretty badly in class. Jill Knopps gave one of my bullies a broken tooth after he called me a three-legged cow. No one bullied me after that.”

  “What a horrible creep,” Nolan said with some emotion. Irma had lost a leg after an accident when she was 12. She didn’t talk about it much, and could walk well with a cane and a prosthetic leg, but it made Nolan’s blood boil to think about her being bullied nevertheless. She was a meek sweetheart, and had always been lovely to him.

  Irma shrugged. “It happens. Mean kids grow up and become good adults.”

  “Some of them probably stay rotten forever,” Nolan said. “Like that kid with the broken tooth probably did.”

  “Oh he did fine for himself.” Irma smiled. “He’s CEO over at Dowell now.”

  “Blake Dowell did that?”

  A car door slammed, and they both looked up. Bluebell opened her eyes too. So this was her. Martina Murphy, Steve’s wife.

  She had softly curling hair that ended at her chin, and kohl around her eyes that had a few tell tale streaks. She nodded at them as she entered, and was about to go to her room when Irma intercepted her, and had a private talk. Bluebell saw her slumped shoulders suddenly straighten, and her chin jut out. She cast a malicious glance at Bluebell, and nodded twice as Irma whispered something. Then she made her way to them.

  Blue sat up on the couch, and Nolan scooted next to her. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she gave it a squeeze.

  “So. You’re his latest skank,” Martina said. “What have you come to say? I’m still his wife, legally. I own everything now, and if you think I’ll give you one penny-”

  “Martina, I’m not here about his money,” Bluebell said quietly. “I- we just wanted to talk to you about Steve.”

  “What’s there to talk about? Steve was still-water scum. He was an arrogant jerk who thought nothing of trampling over other people if it meant he would succeed. He was an egotistical idiot who thought that intelligence could make up for a lack of kindness.”

  “Now, Martina, be nice. He just passed away,” Irma said.

  “I know he did,” Martina said. “I know I’m not making any friends by cursing him, but I don’t care. Steve ditched me without looking back, and no matter what, I’m going to hate him for the rest of my life.”

  “You don’t have to make friends with us,” Bluebell said. “But we’d love it if you at least told us the truth about his past. Steve never spoke about it. If I’d known he was married, believe me I would never have dated him. I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”

  “Oh.” Martina calmed down a little. “Thanks. I guess it wasn’t really your fault. I should have figured he’d stay mum about the past.”

  “When did you meet?” Bluebell asked.

  “We were in the first year of college,” Martina said. “He was in the computer science program, and the professors all raved about him. He was a rising star. Then I came along, and we fell in love. At least I did. We made a mistake, and I got pregnant three months after we met.”

  Bluebell gasped.

  “Yes,” Martina said. “That was how I reacted too. Steve though, he acted as though I’d ruined his life. He was horrible to me. He shouted, said that I was trying to ensnare him. Said it probably wasn’t even his. Said I’d come in the way of his bright future.”

  “Then what?”

  “I went to his parents. They’re poor folk, but good. They forced Steve to marry me. They forced him to stick around till the baby was born. Debts were piling up, and Steve couldn’t focus on his studies. His grades dropped and he lost his scholarship. He got angrier and angrier at me and his parents. He kept saying that all three of us were conspiring to keep him tied.

  “Finally, one day he ran away. He wrote us a note, telling us he’d never come back. He even informed the police, in case we tried to put a missing case on him. He left us to our own fate, and went out to make his.”

  “But why Wisconsin?” Nolan wondered. “I mean, why not NYC or California?”

  “Because he was an ardent devotee of Blake Dowell,” Martina said. “I should have figured he’d be here. He hero-worshipped Blake, and I guess he wanted to be the next Blake.”

  “So why did you come into town all these years later?” Nolan asked.

  “Why? Because he wrote to me. He’d never officially divorced me, you see, and now he needed me to sign the papers. Well, I was willing to sign, as long as we did it face to face. I wanted to spit in his eye just once. I wanted to show him that me and my baby, lovely little Caroline, that we’re doing fine without him, and that he made a mistake. That’s why I came up here.”

  “The same day he was murdered,” Nolan said.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Martina said angrily. “I should have known you’d try to imply-”

  “I’m not implying a thing,” Nolan said. “I’m just saying, there has to be a reason. Did you meet him at all?”

  “No. My flight was delayed, and I got lost on the way,” Martina said. “I was planning to meet him today. I didn’t reach here till about 2 am. Poor Irma had to stay up for me.”

  Nolan gave Bluebell a look from the corner of his eye. So Martina had no alibi, really.

  “The thing is, why did he suddenly want to divorce you?” Bluebell asked.

  “He was getting married, I assumed,” Martina said. “To you.”

  “Not to me,” Bluebell said. “He broke up with me last night.”

  Martina let out a shrill little laugh. “He did? Classic Steve. Top class jerk. So who was the unlucky woman?”

  “There’s a third woman?” Nolan shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “I do,” Bluebell said. “Selena Boyer.”

  *****

  Chapter 9

  Selena Boyer

  A Google search had told Bluebell that Selena was the head of a new start up in Milwaukee. Remembering that Steve had been away on business in Milwaukee all of last week, Bluebell realized that it must have
been Selena he’d been meeting.

  Following what she considered his last wishes, Bluebell emailed Selena, introducing herself as a close friend of Steve’s and letting her know about Steve’s tragic death.

  A day later, Selena drove over, insisting on meeting Bluebell personally. She was a tall brunette dressed in a classic blue skirt suit with a Hermes scarf tied around her neck. Despite how elegant she looked, Selena had puffy red eyes that told a different story about her emotions.

  “I haven’t been able to sleep since I heard,” Selena said, as she sipped coffee on Bluebell’s table.

  “I’m so sorry,” Bluebell said. “Were you and Steve…” She choked on the last word, “close?”

  “We were planning to get married.” Selena put out her hand, and showed Bluebell a ring. “I guess he must have told you? But Steve was always so secretive.”

  With effort, Bluebell controlled herself. She’d guessed this, of course. It made sense. It made perfect sense why he’d broken up with her and asked his wife to sign divorce papers at the same time. He was clearing the field for Selena.

  “So was it love at first sight for you?” Bluebell asked.

  “Love?” Selena laughed. “No. I cared tremendously for Steve, but we both knew this was a business decision. I have a trust fund that matures either when I turn 30, or when I get married. He and I needed that capital to set up our firm. We needed to do it fast, too. Steve said he had info on Dowell’s operations, and a new product they had planned. If we set up our firm first and got to market early, then we could make millions, and Dowell would lose millions.”

  “So you were ready to marry Steve?” Bluebell asked. “Just for this?”

  “Just?” Selena said. “This business is my life. Earning millions is all I’ve dreamed of since I was a little kid. My family used to have a grand fortune. We had a name that was recognized across five states. But then, my father wasted his life on cards and alcohol, and all the family money too. That’s why my grandfather put all my money into a trust. That money is rightfully mine, and marrying Steve seemed as good a way as any to get it.”

  “My God, Steve led a ridiculously complicated life,” Bluebell said. “Did he ever tell you that he was married previously?”

  “Sure.” Selena nodded. “I was the one to suggest that he divorce her as fast as possible. After all, I didn’t want to risk any lawsuits when we got big. And trust me, with Steve’s fantastic inventions and my business sense, we were bound to be big. But it’s all over now. Dowell won. He killed Steve, I’d wager.”

  “He’d be a suspect,” Bluebell said. “Unfortunately, he was in Miami that day.”

  Selena laughed. “Sure, that’s what he says. He probably has enough money to pay for witnesses too.” Dejectedly, she got up. “I guess the only real mystery is, where did Steve hide that data he got from Dowell? If we could only find it, we’d find a way to prove Dowell did it. I know we would.”

  Bluebell nodded, and then brightened as a thought hit her. “Selena, were you and Steve official business partners in any way?”

  “Sure.” Selena nodded. “We’d begun the process of merging his company with mine a month ago. If I was marrying him, I demanded that we share everything 50-50. Why?”

  “Because that means Steve’s office is technically your office too,” Bluebell said with a big smile.

  *****

  Sheriff Catherine wasn’t very pleased when Selena made that request.

  “Well, the place is still sealed,” she said. “It’s a crime scene.”

  “Please, Catherine. We only want to look about,” Bluebell said.

  “Why? Think you might find a clue?” Catherine laughed.

  “There was something I wanted to get a closer look at,” Bluebell said. “Camilla mentioned she saw a long scratch along the wall.”

  “Sure.” Catherine nodded. “She told me about it too. It doesn’t get me any closer to figuring out how the killer got inside the room. Those keys were specialized, and the lock maker has verified that there were only three copies in existence, all of which were accounted for. The landlords are in Madison and had their copy in their safe. The cleaning lady had hers with her. The actual keys were found lying next to Steve’s body. None of it makes sense. Looks like whoever did it might just end up going scot-free.” She gave Bluebell a wry smile. “Lucky them.”

  Bluebell flushed. “I didn’t do it, Catherine.”

  “Never said you did,” Catherine said. “Won’t be likely to say it either. This is the perfect crime. Whoever did it must know magic!”

  “So you won’t let us in the office?” Bluebell asked. “Selena here is the owner, you know.”

  “No luck.” Catherine smiled. “But look, if all you wanted to know about was that long scratch on the wall, I’ve got a photo.” She brought up her phone, and showed them both. “See? It’s just some fault in the paint, most likely. Look at the black and yellow stain next to it. Some kind of mold, probably.”

  “Right.” Bluebell felt strangely disappointed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Sheriff. I guess if you can’t figure it out, neither can we.”

  “Well, I’m not giving up,” Catherine said, with determination. “I’m going to make sure the killer is behind bars, no doubt about it.” She smiled. “Well, I don’t want to keep droning on about the case. Why don’t we-”

  “Wait a second!” Bluebell yelped. “Can I see that photo again?”

  “Sure.” Catherine nodded. “I don’t see why not. Just-”

  But Bluebell was staring into it, looking like she’d just found diamonds on her plate. “Catherine, I’ve got it! I think I’ve got it! I know how it was done.”

  *****

  Chapter 10

  Conclusions

  After Bluebell told Catherine her theory, she spent the next few days waiting in agony for a phone call. In between, she had a visit from Oliver.

  “Mathilda is still in custody,” he told her. “But I think the jury’s convinced that she only cast a love spell. As well as we can figure out, when she cast it, Steve was already dead, and that caused a minor explosion to occur. That explains why you woke up with no memory of the previous night. Mathilda said she woke up the same way, panicked, and tried to disappear. But we’ve got a task force set up now to figure out how this was done. It’s clear that some magic was used.”

  “I’m not so sure.” Bluebell smiled.

  “Come on, Bluebell, it’s impossible for a normal man to walk through walls,” Oliver said. “Maybe it wasn’t Mathilda, but whoever did it clearly has some access to our spells.”

  “If we’re lucky,” Bluebell said, “We might find out the truth very soon. I’m expecting a call any minute now-”

  Right on cue, her phone rang.

  “We’re on our way to make the arrest,” Catherine said. “Everything you told me matched up. Your theory was right. We have forensic proof of it now. I thought… well, I thought I owed you an apology, and a thank you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Sheriff,” Bluebell said. “As long as we catch him, I’m happy.”

  “So it’s a him,” Oliver said, as she hung up. “Who is it?”

  “Want to go see?” Bluebell asked, grabbing her coat. “The police are on their way to make the arrest anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Oliver said. “Let’s go.”

  “There’s so many people who could have killed Steve,” Bluebell said. “But there was always some piece missing from the jigsaw. I was a suspect, of course, to an outsider that knows all we do, I was the strongest suspect. I have magic in me, which means it’s conceivable that I could walk through walls. I have motive too - I wanted to kill Steve because he broke up with me. Finally, I have no alibi - I woke up with no memory of the night before. That’s why you were really sent by the Magical Ministry, wasn’t it? To keep an eye on me?”

  Oliver nodded. “Might as well admit it. All the bets were that you and Mathilda had conspired to kill Steve. Though I’ve know
n Mathilda for a long time and I knew she wasn’t the kind to kill. I thought you may have forced her to cast a spell allowing you to walk through walls, using the 21st birthday wish as a lever.”

  “Right,” Bluebell said. “That’s the only theory that works, isn’t it? It ticks off everything - motive, means, opportunity. Except I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Steve.”

  “So who did?” Oliver asked.

  “Someone very clever,” Bluebell said. “Also someone very desperate. I had three people I considered suspects. The first, and strongest, was Steve’s wife. She had motive, she hated him for leaving her. She had no real alibi either - she was driving to our town when the murder happened.”

  “But how did she pass through two locked doors?”

  “Exactly. That’s where I was stuck. How did she?” Bluebell smiled. “That’s when I realized my second suspect was Blake Dowell - a pretty major suspect. He hated Steve because Steve had stolen information about a product, and was trying to launch a similar product early with Selena’s help. Dowell also had an office diagonally opposite to Steve’s in the same building. Which made me wonder… he had access to at least one key. The key to the building. Which meant he only needed to somehow enter Steve’s office. Just one wall to walk through, not two.”

  “Right,” Oliver said.

  “But then Blake revealed he had the perfect alibi. He was in Miami when the murder occurred.” Bluebell sighed. “So it couldn’t be him.”

  “So maybe it was Selena?” Oliver asked.

  “No. Selena had no motive. In fact, she had everything to lose with Steve’s sudden death. She had nothing to do with it. But she was instrumental in making me understand how it was done.”

  “So who was your third suspect?”

  “Do you remember how you found Steve in Nolan’s car?” Bluebell asked. “Right before you captured his spirit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Steve told me then that he had never liked Nolan,” Bluebell said. “That Nolan always seemed too much of a goody two shoes to him.” She paused. “Nolan’s my best friend, but I wondered… it seemed silly, of course, but what if…”