Lethally Green: A Maggie Flanagan Cozy Mystery (Maggie Flanagan cozy mysteries Book 1)

by Amber Boffin

  “No, I’m angry! Not playing! You have to learn. It’s not all fun and games. You’ll have to improve your manners if you want to stay here.”

  Surprised by her tone, both dogs froze and sat down, looking at her with the tip of their tails still wagging, their ears pointed forward with their drooping corners softening their gaze.

  Although Maggie had a tinge of apprehension when she opened the side door to let them out, she wanted them to be free to explore the bush, and she would have to take the risk they would run away. To her surprise, they ran out but stayed close to the house, keeping an eye on each other. Within a few minutes, as soon as she sat down to enjoy her breakfast and think about the day ahead, they were both at the door, Beans jumping as high as she could until she reached the door handle to let herself in.

  This will be fun, but more of a handful than I thought. They’re intelligent animals, and they have lots of energy that needs to escape somewhere.

  Her phone beeped, bringing her back to the day’s agenda. This was the reminder for the appointment with Joe Johnson, jack-of-all-trades plumber, to check out his work on the house, together with the solar panel installation he claimed to have helped install. Maggie had meanwhile seen through Joe’s appropriation of all jobs done; he might be a good plumber and all-round handy person, but he seemed to have a tendency to claim the credit for his friends’ work, if he thought it could make him look good.

  Maggie glanced at the time. It was too late to work on her photo website. If she left now she would have time on her own to walk around the house and form a quick opinion before Joe arrived. She packed the wedding photo book she had prepared for the Miller parents, together with photos of the dogs—the lodge being so close to the house, who knows, they might know the dogs and/or their owners.

  She attempted to walk out, leaving the excited animals inside, but Beans managed to squeeze through, keeping the door ajar and allowing the other dog to escape into the yard. Maggie would have to bring them along, and perhaps that was best; the Millers would then get to see them and fall for them. Although she felt her heart melting by the hour in the company of the hairy pair, she was determined to find them a home, if only to prove to Adam that she meant it when she said she didn’t want a pet. She wanted a free choice of when and what type of pet, if at all, she might get without being pressured.

  The trio happily drove off toward the house. Maggie heard a strange noise of crunching coming from the back seat, where the Irish Setter was sitting. Through the mirror, she saw him with a carrot poking out of his muzzle, bits falling out as he gnawed it. She remembered that they were intended for the llamas but had forgotten about them under the spell of the Aussie, and to her surprise, this dog liked carrots.

  She looked at him and said, “Okay, Carrot, at least you’ll not turn orange. You already have a rust colour!”

  Maggie pulled up the driveway of the dwelling. The garden looked new, meticulously planted with flowers and not a weed to be seen. The solar panels were gleaming in the sun. In contrast to this display of green energy, a large wakeboard boat with an overpowered engine was parked in its trailer, waiting to be launched into the lake below. Maggie wondered why people didn’t opt for electric boats; they would not pollute the lakes, would be quiet, and would not require all the maintenance and fuel, especially if they wanted to be portrayed as being “green.”

  After letting the dogs out, she walked around the house, the dogs following her, afraid to lose her, seemingly keen to be liked by their new mistress. The building looked tidy and the finishing well done; however, that was neither Joe’s work nor Leon’s. The solar panels appeared well fixed, with all the cables disappearing into the side of the house.

  Carrot sat half on her foot, enjoying a scratch behind the ear while Maggie stood looking at the view across the peaceful Deep Lake. All of a sudden, Beans darted toward the road, Carrot running after her as she barked at the utility van arriving on the driveway. Maggie sighed with relief that the dogs stayed clear of the road and Beans was now barking at Joe, who was looking down at her through the car window.

  “Hi, Maggie! Does your dog bite?”

  “No, I don’t think so!”

  Joe looked perplexed as he slowly inched out of the car while Beans intensely sniffed his feet.

  “I’ve just taken custody of the dogs until they find new homes, but so far they’re very sweet. I’ve only had them since yesterday. I’ll put them in the car.”

  Reluctantly, Carrot and Beans climbed into her truck through the red door. At first Maggie thought she would paint the red passenger door blue to match the body of the car but decided to keep it, since she thought it gave Big Jay more character.

  Joe regained his composure, and as if he were the owner of the place, he led Maggie around the garden to the back of the house, stating proudly, “I’m looking after this house for Mr. Bern. He trusts me with it, and I have the keys if there’s anything wrong, since he isn’t often up.”

  Joe appeared very at ease showing her around the house, after having carefully removed his shoes, revealing a pair of mismatched socks without a blush. Seeing the red and green socks, Maggie smiled to herself, wondering if he was colour blind. She followed him into the living room with its tall ceiling, cathedral windows, and flies gathering in front of its top window. A woman’s scarf printed with red tulips lay on the couch. For some strange reason, the image of the cloth seemed to linger in her mind once she was in the utility room looking at the engines of the house.

  Maggie’s attention was pulled back to the machinery in the room by Joe’s sudden loud voice as he pointed to a line of batteries.

  “This is the powerhouse for the solar panels, ready to be hooked up. It could also fit in your house no problem!”

  Cables linked a line of boxes, and a number ran out of the room to a control unit. It all seemed a little messy, she thought as she tried to figure out how the system worked. Suddenly Joe tripped on a bundle of cables half lying on the floor, half hanging from a hole in the wall as he turned toward the open door to the outside. Grumbling, he bent down, at first attempting to coil them up in a corner but, abandoning his pursuit, left them lying.

  “Those electricians, always messy. They have to be careful. These wires can be live; they’re hooked to the solar panel.”

  Maggie stepped back, looking at the mix of red and green wires, perplexed. She was glad to exit into the fresh air. The utility room felt very small for the two of them.

  His hands on his hips, Joe rocked on his feet. “Now that you’ve seen my work and Leon’s, what do you think?”

  Maggie looked at him straight into his eyes. “It all looks good, and I was happy with your work on my kitchen sink. Now I’ll only need to see a very good quote in order to decide. You know I’m comparing offers.”

  Joe glanced away, seemingly unable to withstand her gaze. “There’s no other solar installer around. Leon took over their business a few months ago…and as for my work, you might get a cheaper quote, but no one, I tell you no one, does a thorough job like I do. I can assure you there will be no leaks, absolutely, and that can’t be said for the others.”

  Maggie headed toward her car, the two dogs poking their heads out of the half open window in anticipation, and turned to Joe.

  “I have to say, you seem to have done a good job. Supposing I decide to get solar panels, will you be working with Leon?”

  Joe seemed to increase in size as he pumped his chest up like a peacock. “Of course, Leon can’t work without me. You can count on me.”

  “I’m reassured, it’s hard to find someone trustworthy…” Maggie waited a little before continuing. “I’m in good hands then.” She glanced at her watch, knowing he had a tendency to linger on talking, and she was keen to move on to the lodge before lunchtime, when it would be busy for the Millers. Before he could open his mouth, she said, “Already that late! I’ve got to dash, I promised to bring the pictures to the Millers. I’ll think about it. In the meantime I still wan
t the quote for my bathroom!”

  She really could have walked to all those places from her home, along Lake View Road, but jumping in a car seemed to be what everyone did here. She promised herself to walk more to shed the years of sitting, and now with the dogs she had no excuse.

  Maggie was happy to find Richard Miller hooking up a sign with the day’s menu. He was always easier to speak with than his wife, at least that was how she remembered it from when she was a little girl. Richard invited Maggie in for a drink.

  “Sorry, Sue is out shopping for the restaurant. I hope I can help you. But anything to do with decisions regarding the photos will be up to my daughter or Sue, I’m afraid.”

  Maggie eagerly talked about the two dogs, hoping to find their owners, only to be rebuffed and cut short.

  “Nope, never seen them before and don’t know their owners. I’m not interested in adopting them either; in my opinion, anything that requires bending is not worth cuddling. Only Great Danes are my kind of dog.”

  Maggie hadn’t expected his reaction. A little disappointed, she said, “The Irish Setter, I call him Carrot, is a big dog, not a Great Dane, but sizeable. Are you really sure?”

  “Maybe big for you, but not for me! Besides, you can’t separate them. They seem to have a strong bond.”

  As Richard spoke, he pointed toward the window to the yard, where the pair of dogs were racing after each other, playing. Seeing that there was really no hope with the dogs, she replied, “I can still show you the pictures. This is the one in the church.”

  Richard put his reading glasses on the tip of his large nose. After bringing the print closer to his eyes, he put it down, laughing with a deep guttural sound. Maggie couldn’t help herself; feeling the contagion of his laughter, she started to giggle like a little girl. He exclaimed, “This will be the one we will have on our wall! That must be when your hat fell down as you took the picture. Your bewildered face looked so funny, we all burst out laughing! You managed to capture that happy moment. Everyone is smiling.”

  While looking through the printouts of the wedding pictures, the stack of photographs fell to the floor, a close-up of the mayor on top. There she was, staring arrogantly back at them. Richard handed her the prints with a look of disdain on his face, his lips turned down and eyes looking away.

  Surprised, she asked, “You don’t seem to like her. Strange woman. I can’t figure her out. What do you think of her?”

  “I don’t really know her. I invited her because she’s the mayor and we’re such a small community. She positioned herself as the green mayor in contrast to Peter Wigmott but was new to this round of elections.”

  “Interesting…do you think she would have lost if Peter Wigmott would have still been alive? In other words, would she gain from his death?”

  “I don’t know about that! But I don’t think she’d have won. People here don’t like voting for people they don’t know… I don’t know, I find her a little scary I guess,” replied Richard.

  “The first time I saw her, I thought she was an opera singer. She has such a powerful voice and…”

  Richard laughed. “You’re spot on. Sue, who sings in the local choir, told me that the mayor joined and will be the soloist! I thought she was more the type to break windows than to sing like a bird.”

  “Does she have a family? I didn’t see her husband or partner at the party.”

  “Not as far as I know. Tina mentioned, you know, the journal-ist…”

  “Yes, I know, not surprised she’d have a story there!” Maggie lowered her voice a little so that he would not pick up on her sarcastic tone.

  “I think she said she was divorced and moved up here to start a new life.” Richard added with a naughty side look, “When I talked to Peter about her at the Christmas party, the only thing he said was that she was man-eater!”

  “A handful!” She looked at the figure of the man standing next to Ms. Stilton in the picture, dwarfed by her imposing frame.

  Feeling that more information would be hard to gather without diving further into the realm of pure gossip, Maggie stood up at the sound of a car arriving. This was her excuse to take her leave.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Ms. Sue Miller arriving. Maggie thought it best to avoid the difficult question of payment for her work for now, noticing that Ms. Miller likewise had slipped away behind the house, clearly thinking she hadn’t been spotted. Maggie had heard she had great difficulty parting with her money, but eventually, at the end of the month, a cheque would arrive in the letterbox.

  As Maggie climbed into her truck, she shuffled around to find her camera. She didn’t have it with her at the Millers. No, it must still be at the house with the solar panels. She rushed back. She parked her car in a cloud of dust and ran toward the back of the house overlooking the lake where she thought she might have forgotten it.

  The door of the utility room stood wide open.I’d better close it before critters get in.Maggie nearly tripped with fright over a figure lying in front of the door. A woman lay on her side, her head in a puddle of blood. Maggie kneeled down to feel the pulse in the wrist. Nothing. She tried the neck. Nothing.

  She sprang up and reached in her bag for her phone. With a shaking hand she called the police, wary of the possibility of a murderer still on the premises.

  Chapter Twelve

  At the police station, Sergeant Humphries had received a grilling from a homicide detective for his handling of Peter Wigmott’s case. Assuming it had been an accident, he hadn’t opened a proper investigation when the body was discovered, although he had followed up with all the appropriate paperwork as soon as he received the mechanic’s damning report. Sergeant Humphries swore internally at himself for having assumed too much and not having focused on the facts. He was worried his boss would demote him—or worse, order his transfer to another station.

  Imagining the worst, he clung to the thought that his spotless career would help, and perhaps he would be able to keep his position. Sergeant Humphries couldn’t conceive of living anywhere else than in his beloved cottage country, where everyone knew him as an honest man, a little lazy, but fair. He could even gather a crowd when he took to the stage with his country band, The Haystack Needles. He had truthfully believed that a murder couldn’t have happened in his community, having never seen one during his fifteen years of patrols around the area.

  A knock on the door brought him back to the present. Constable Gupta poked his head through the door, presenting him with the printed report to review. Sergeant Humphries couldn’t allow his feelings to get the better of him, especially in front of the constable. He asked the constable if he had the list of the Christmas party attendees, as he would have to speak to each one, all possible suspects.

  With a bobble of his head, Constable Raj Gupta asked in a low, hesitant voice, “What about you, Sergeant?”

  With a growl Humphries replied, “What about me? What a strange question.”

  Constable Gupta stiffened, a few beads of sweat trickling down his sideburns. “Sir, I was just trying to say, you were also at the party…do I need to put you on the list and question you?”

  The sergeant tried to hide his irritation at his constable’s fair question. The mere thought that his constable might see him as a possible suspect hit him in his core, even though he couldn’t ignore that he was right to follow the rules.

  “Eh… Yes, you’re right to do things according to the book, even though it’s a preposterous idea. You only need to add my name. And…while we’re at it, where were you? You were not at the party.”

  Constable Gupta’s thick eyelashes flickered very quickly, like little brooms, his eyes focused on his feet as he stammered, “B-but sir, I was at the police station on duty. You assigned me there as you always do…” His voice trailed off with the last words.

  Sergeant Humphries softened but wanted to teach him a lesson. “That’s right, so if you spoke to anyone while on duty, get their names. Come to think of it, loo
k for the security camera recording, if we still have it. That should do. And please don’t be such a… Well, assert yourself, you should’ve come up with this yourself, you can’t hesitate like this. Be a man…if you want to become a sergeant one day, as you keep telling me, you have to suck it up, buttercup!”

  As if under a spell, Constable Gupta straightened his back, his arms aligned to his trunk, feet clasped together like a little soldier, and replied with slight sarcasm in his voice, “Yes, sir! Actually I wasn’t alone…perhaps you hadn’t been made aware…I was on duty with two officers all night. It was a quiet evening, so we didn’t have to go out of the station, sir.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll take down your statement as well.”

  The sergeant hated it when people pointed out what he had forgotten, and especially when it was the constable. Ignoring the constable, Sergeant Humphries glanced at the long list of guests, pondering where to start. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any time of death; the only lead was when Peter Wigmott left the party and whether anyone left before him or just after him. All the while, Constable Gupta stood next to him with imperceptible breathing, as if frozen on the spot.

  Feeling watched and already on edge at the prospect of a team of detectives sent over from the city to help manage the case and keep a close eye on his every move to evaluate whether he would keep his position, Sergeant Humphries roared, “Get on with it! Check the arrival and departure times of the guests and stop looking like a fish out of water.”