Twice Dipped Murder: A Rita Reincarnated Cozy

by DeWitt, Daphne

  “He’s a grown man, Rita and, without being too forward, you barely know him. I didn’t think you’d care who he was and was not dating. Even if you did, it’s not really any of your business.”

  None of my business? None of my business?!

  Okay, to be fair, Peggy had no way of knowing just how much of my business all of this was. To her, I was just the new girl in town who had a creepy fascination with a retired guy’s love life. Just another item in the long list of weird things Rita Redoux did.

  It’s really a wonder she hasn’t fired me yet.

  I bit my tongue and tried to save the situation. After all, it wasn’t like I could come clean and tell her the real reason this was messing with my head. Not if I didn’t want her calling the looney bin to come pick me up.

  “It’s not that,” I answered, trying to pull off my best white lie. “He’s just a sweet old guy is all. He reminds of my own father, if I’m being honest and, after my mother died, my father was never able to move on. I guess I’m just really happy that he is, especially after all the poor guy has been through.”

  And the thing was, as I was saying it, I started to believe it. My dad had been through a lot, and he did deserve to be happy.

  Though I could have picked a better match for him than Ms. Chessman.

  I mean seriously. I could have flagged down the first passing car I saw and jerked a better match for him out of the passenger side door. But you know what they say. You can’t make your parent’s decisions for them. Especially after you die.

  “That’s kind of sweet, actually,” Peggy answered, giving me a teary eyed look and grabbing the chocolate pecan and cherry slices I had just cut. “You never talk about your family.”

  “That’s because I’d have to make them up,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “I’m just a really private person,” I said, figuratively smacking myself on the head and plastering on a fake smile.

  Peggy nodded and went back to handing out free pie.

  I shook my head, amazed at the number of people who were still here even as we were going strongly into the nine o’clock hour. Didn’t these people have jobs to go to? Or was the promise of free sweets enough to call a town-wide morning off?

  “You should have told me,” Peggy said, rounding the corner and slapping another few slices onto her tray.

  “I know,” I answered, pulling out the last of our dough and beginning to knead it with my hands. “It was a kneejerk reaction. Things were just going crazy, and this was the only way I could think to stop it. I never imagined the ‘free pie’ thing would be so very popular.” I sighed. “You can take it out of my paycheck if you want.”

  “Not the pie,” Peggy answered. “If anything, I’m thrilled about it.” She looked around, almost beaming. “I mean, look at all the people here. There are folks in here that I haven’t seen since the other Rita and I opened up. No, this is great for us. I mean, it’s definitely just the kind of advertisement we need to gear up for the Halloween party we’re having here in a few days.” She smiled at me. “By the way, if I took it out of your paycheck, you’d be living on rice and beans until the end of the year.”

  I chuckled as she scooped up the last of the caramel pecan.

  “Do you really think it’s such a good idea, the Halloween party, I mean?” I asked, looking her over. “We do have the dog show to think about, and I don’t want us to get overworked.”

  “Please,” she scoffed, waving the idea off with a move of her hand. “When are we not overworked?”

  Well, she did have a point there.

  “Peggy,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “If you’re not talking about the promotion, then what was it I should have told you?”

  “That your boyfriend is here.” She grinned at me. “I’d have set up a double date with Aiden and me.”

  “Boyfriend?” I balked. “I don’t have a-”

  My eyes traced the space where Peggy’s were trained. Sammie stood by the door, dressed in a dinner jacket and holding a bouquet of dandelions, which I hated. Not that he’d have had any way of knowing that.

  “Oh great,” I muttered.

  “What?” Peggy asked.

  “I said oh great!” I answered, working hard to sound much more animated than I had before. “Sammie’s here. That’s-that’s great. Though, it’s a bit too soon to call him my boyfriend.” In truth, it was a little too soon to even call him a friend. He was a sweet guy. That was for sure. Still, something about the idea of Peggy calling him my boyfriend made me feel uneasy and more than a little pinned down.

  “We’ll see,” Peggy winked and sauntered off with the caramel pecan.

  I waved Sammie over after he finished holding the door open for old man Carter and his wife.

  He grinned like a kid on Christmas Eve as he neared me, his dandelions drooping in his hand. He was such a sweet guy, and honestly, he wasn’t half bad to look at. He had a sort of boyish charm that I bet would have made him catnip for the farm girls outside of Harbor Heights.

  Truthfully, maybe he’d have made good boyfriend material. How was I to know? I had had exactly one boyfriend in my entire life, and now he was marrying my best friend.

  Maybe I should go out with Sammie. It certainly would have taken my mind off things. But those ‘things’ were exactly the reason I shouldn’t go out with him. There was another death on my plate. Suicide or something more sinister, it was clear to me I had to deal with it. And I had to do it now.

  No. I was going to have let Sammie down easy.

  It was time to turn away the puppy.

  “Hey you,” he said, handing me the droopy dandelions.

  “Um, thanks,” I answered, taking them and sticking them in a vase. I’d fill it with water later. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was running errands for my uncle,” he said, stuffing his now free hands into his pockets. “And I figured that, since I was coming through Second Springs anyway, I’d stop by and see you.” He bit his lip. “I’d have called, but you don’t seem to answer your phone.”

  “Yeah,” I answered, my heart sinking. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve been really busy lately. You can see how jammed this place is, and we did have something of a tragedy last night.”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “I heard. I even saw a couple of news vans outside of town on my way from River Run.”

  “River Run?” I asked. “That’s thirty miles out of the way.”

  His cheeks reddened. “Okay. You caught me. I decided to take the long way around so I could see you. Go ahead and sue me if you want.”

  “Sammie,” I said, sighing loudly and brushing the hair out of my eyes. “You’re such a sweet guy. You’re really kind and funny. I really mean that but-”

  “Don’t go bragging on me too much.” He grinned. “You’ve gotta save something for our date.”

  “Right,” I answered. “Our date. About that…”

  Just then, Darrin walked through the door with Angie behind him. I hadn’t talked to him since last night and had no idea how Wanda’s questioning went. I wanted to brush past Sammie and ask him, but something told me that (at least with Angie beside him) he’d be hard pressed to tell me.

  This was not good. With Angie here, Darrin had decided he didn’t need me. No, it was worse than that. He decided he didn’t want me, that letting me help him was doing me some disservice and-now that he had his old partner back- it was something he could get by without. It felt bad, like I had jumped out of a plane-placing all my faith in the parachute strapped on my back, only to find it wasn’t opening.

  Little did he know that I needed this. It was my work, as far as I knew. It was literally what I was sent here to do. I could feel it in my heart.

  But I needed him to do it. I needed someone in uniform, a cop that could brush past red tape when need be, an officer who could do the things that…

  Slowly, I looked back up at Sammie, seeing the gold badge that s
himmered in the light, half hidden by his jacket.

  “You were saying?” he asked, looking at me anxiously. “About our date?”

  “Right,” I said, something of a wicked idea bouncing around my mind. “How about we have our date tonight?”

  “Tonight?” he asked, his face brightening. “I’ll see if I can get a good reservation.”

  “No,” I answered, patting his arm. “That won’t be necessary. I have something much more exciting in mind.”

  7

  “When you said ‘more exciting,' this isn’t really what I had in mind,” Sammie said as we climbed up the stairs at the hotel. “I mean, I like you and all, but I not sure I want our relationship to go this fast.”

  “What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  Once I realized where we were, walking toward a hotel room before we had even gone to dinner on our first date, my cheeks reddened. “Oh no!” I said, throwing my hands out in front of me. “Oh no. I’m not…” I shook my head. “I mean, you’re not- I mean, we’re not-” I cleared my throat and steadied myself. “That’s not what’s going on here.”

  Sammie bit his lip, looking as relieved as he did curious. “Well, then, if that’s not what’s going on here, then…” His eyes went wide. “This is the hotel! This is the hotel where that guy jumped.”

  “Or was pushed,” I answered.

  “Pushed?” he asked. “That’s why you brought me here, to go to work? You brought me on a date…to investigate a crime?”

  I sighed loudly, sorry to have hurt the guy or get his expectations built up just to crush them. “I know. It was awful, and I’m sorry. It’s just, I needed to get out here. I made a promise to someone, and-”

  “Sorry?” he said, grinning wide. “This is the best first date ever!”

  I almost squealed with excitement and disbelief as I heard him. “You’re okay with this?”

  “I’m thrilled with this,” he said. “My uncle never lets me investigate actual crimes. He always makes me man the crosswalk outside of the elementary school.” He looked around again. “This-this is what I’ve been waiting for.”

  “Samuel Black, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  I settled in front of the room where Lionel had been staying. Lifting the police tape that clearly asked us to stay out, I motioned to Sammie.

  “After you.”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Ladies first.”

  We entered the room with all the giddiness of a couple of teenagers sneaking out our windows after Mom and Dad turned the lights out.

  But we shouldn’t have.

  The minute my feet hit the carpet on the inside of the room, my eyes settled on this place, I remembered why we were here. Someone was dead. Regardless of the reasons for it, that wasn’t going to change. But at least, if I did this right, I could either find justice for the widow or enough evidence to the contrary to calm her assertions.

  Looking around the room, my heart fluttered a little. It was just a hotel room, but there were enough personal flairs in it to let me know what sort of people Wanda and Lionel Sulkin were.

  A picture of them standing in front of the Grand Canyon sat on the nightstand. Homemade candles sat perched and doubted in front of an unplugged television.

  They were the romantic type, the sort that didn’t care about the rest of the world or the way it might intrude into their little bubble. But intrude it did, and now they’d never get to be romantic (or anything else) ever again.

  “What are we looking for?” Sammie asked beside me, still sporting his adorably naïve grin.

  “Anything,” I answered. “Anything that might look out of the ordinary or like it doesn’t belong here.”

  “Right,” he said. Nodding, he started toward the far side of the room, leaving the closet and bathroom to me. “Don’t you think the police probably already went through this?” he asked as he knelt down to check under the bed.

  “Probably,” I answered. “But you’d be surprised what the police can miss.” I thought about Darrin. That wasn’t fair. He was a good detective. I mean sure, he was not Dad, but he was a stellar investigator. If something was here, and he had already had the chance to look it over, I was sure he’d have found it.

  There was a time-and by time, I mean two days ago- when I could have asked him about it and been relatively confident that he would tell me the truth. There was a line he couldn’t cross, of course. Sheriffs are like that. But, all in all, he had gotten used to the idea of me being around, even if he didn’t know what to think of my supernatural origin story.

  Now, with the appearance of Angie McConnell, I was relegated right back to ordinary citizen. It was like the last few months hadn’t happened at all. He could tell me it was for my own good, and that he was just looking out for me and my safety all he wanted to, but the truth was it still hurt.

  “Nothing under the bed,” Sammie popped up quickly. “Which is strange because, if I was going to hide something, that’s where I’d put it.”

  “That’s the thing, Sammie,” I answered, moving toward the closet. “Criminals, especially the smart ones, probably aren’t going to hide things in the very first place people think of.” I shook my head. “You have to kind of think outside the box.”

  “What box?” he scoffed and started opening the drawers on the nightstand.

  I rifled through the closet, feeling like the worst kind of voyeur as I pushed through Lionel’s clothes hanging up in dry cleaner plastic. They looked so nice, so fancy. It was a shame he’d never get to wear them again.

  I thought about the stories my dad used to tell me about the days after Mom died. With a newborn baby to take care of (namely me) he was so busy that he had forgotten to do all the things you do after someone you’ve shared your life with suddenly isn’t there anymore.

  Then, when things slowed down, he didn’t have the heart to change things. So, as I was growing up, it wasn’t unusual for me to run across one of Mom’s old dresses or see the coffee mug with her name on it that he got her as an anniversary gift.

  A deflating thought whizzed through my head. Had he done the same thing with my stuff? I hadn’t been in that house-my house- since the night I died. Had it been turned into a shrine of all that he’d lost? Was he surrounded by the junk of both his dead women?

  I shook my head. He was okay, okay enough to make out with Aiden’s mom on the front porch anyway.

  Besides, this wasn’t about me. I needed to move past this, to push my insecurities and worries aside. Otherwise, I wasn’t going to be effective. I wasn’t going to be able to keep my promise to Wanda.

  “I…is this something?” Sammie asked from behind me.

  I turned around, walking out of the closet. Sammie was holding the shards of something broken, glaring at it intently.

  “I did what you said,” he told me, looking up. “I figured I’d look in some unusual places and, what’s more unusual than that?” He pointed to the air conditioning unit near the far wall. It was a small plastic square, and he had pulled the covering off. “I used to stay in a lot of hotels when I was younger. My dad played the banjo in a folk rock band. They were called the Dandelion Heroes. He pretty much toured the entire Southeast. This one time, we were in a town outside of Orlando, and there was this giant-”

  “Sammie, focus,” I said, moving toward him.

  “Right,” he stammered. “The point is, in all of the hotels I’ve stayed in, no one ever thinks to dismantle the air conditioning. I’ve been in some stuffy rooms in my day, and my dad would never let me go near that thing. Said it looked too dangerous. I figured the Second Springs squad might have overlooked it.”

  He held it up in the air, and I saw that it was the wreckage of one of those cheap digital clocks. I looked it over, a familiar spark lighting in the back of my mind. This was a clue, and one I needed to consider.

  “Do you think someone dropped it or something?” he asked.

  “I’d bet doughnuts to dishrags tha
t the clock was sitting on the nightstand. Even if it fell, it wouldn’t shatter like that. Someone would have to stomp on it.”

  “Or throw it,” Sammie added.

  Good. He was picking up what I was putting down.

  “And why would someone go through all the trouble of hiding something like that in the air conditioner?” I asked. “It couldn’t be because they didn’t want to pay for it. These things are like ten bucks and, judging by his Wiki page, Lionel had way more than that to spend.”

  “Someone wanted to hide evidence of something,” Sammie answered.

  “There you go,” I answered. “There was a fight here last night. Someone threw that clock in anger. And then, probably sometime after Lionel ended up dead, they hid it there.” I shook my head. “I think Wanda was right, Sammie. I know the police haven’t ruled it out, and I know there are still a lot of questions left unanswered, but I don’t think this was a suicide at all.”

  8

  I knocked on the door, careful to balance the three pies that were stacked atop each other in my left hand. My mind was racing, and I couldn’t stop thinking about that clock we found back in the hotel room earlier. I wanted to tell Darrin, to get to work with our patented back and forth deduction/banter, but I couldn’t.

  Like it or not, I couldn’t trust Darrin. At least, not the same way I used to. He had Angie to deal with now and, though I’d only ever had one conversation with the woman, something told me we were never going to get along.

  Luckily, I had Sammie on my side.

  A tinge of guilt ran through me as I thought of him. I used him to help me investigate under the guise of a date. What kind of person did that make me?

  Still, he definitely enjoyed it, and he was better at it than he had any right to be. Maybe it was something of a date after all. He certainly seemed pleased at the end of it, and I know I was.

  He was back in Harbor Heights though, called away by his uncle to deal with some errant paperwork or something.

  Whatever mysteries that clock hinted at, it was up to me to solve them. At least for now.