She was restrained by two police officers, as the remaining four escorted the bodybuilder to a patrol car.
Art Solinsky hadn’t bothered to show up for the “Burglary in Progress” call, made by Melissa Beckett, that had gone out to the police department, so it was the uniformed cops who brought in Andre Weisman’s killer.
Holly came up behind Jenna and touched her lightly on the arm, causing her to jump a bit. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Jenna frowned. “Who are you?” Her teeth were still chattering from fear and adrenalin.
“Just someone who was watching out for you,” Holly replied quietly.
“I’m fine,” Jenna turned away to pay attention to an officer who needed to take a statement, and Holly slipped away into the night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
* * *
Chas Beckett was astonished at the tale his wife told upon his return.
“So, Eckels called Solinsky with the results and Solinsky brushed him off?” Chas was shook his head in disbelief. “Timothy Eckels doesn’t pick up the phone unless he absolutely has to, so if he makes a call, it’s important.”
“Exactly,” Missy nodded. “So, when I told Tim that you were out of town, he sounded a bit upset. I talked to him a little bit more and told him that I was doing a rather unofficial investigation and he told me what he found out when the lab results came in.”
“Which was?”
“The poison that was used to kill Andre was Sodium Fluoroacetate, which is derived from plants that only grow certain places in the world. One of the poisonous plants is called a Poison Pea, and it grows in Australia. When I told Echo that, she knew immediately that our culprit was most likely the trainer at the gym who had taken Andre’s place. He studied botany and landscaping in college,” Missy explained.
“When they searched his house after his arrest, they found lots of the Poison Pea plants potted in pretty containers in his kitchen.”
Chas nodded, impressed. “So, what was his motive for killing Andre?” he asked.
“Jealousy.”
“He was jealous of Andre’s position at the gym? That doesn’t seem to be a likely motive for murder.”
“Oh no, he was jealous of Andre’s attention and affection. He had a crush on him, and Andre had refused his advances, according to some witnesses at the gym, so he set out to bring down every woman he could find whom Andre had flirted with, which is why Echo and Joyce and Jenna and I were involved. When they arrested Simon at Jenna’s house, they found a bag he’d been carrying that he was going to use to plant evidence at her house. She’d made it her mission to make Andre fall in love with her, and Simon couldn’t stand it, apparently.”
“What evidence was in the bag?”
“Some of the same kind that he’d planted in Joyce’s car. Hair samples, clothing fibers, he apparently knew a little bit about police procedure. He had the master key to the lockers at the gym, and used it to steal Jenna’s key ring, which had all the copies of keys for me, Joyce and Echo, giving him access. He also stole Jenna’s phone, hoping to place the blame on her.”
“But why did Jenna have copies of all of your keys?” Chas was confused.
“Because apparently Simon wasn’t the only one obsessed with Andre. Jenna had one date with him and thought that he was her boyfriend from then on. She was stalking all of us, but didn’t do the damage to Echo’s studio, Joyce’s house, and my shop. Simon did it, while carrying her cell phone, hoping that it was being tracked so that he could set her up.”
“Wow, a man and a woman, obsessed with the same guy. This Andre must’ve really been something,” Chas mused.
“He was very nice,” Missy said sadly.
“So about you conducting investigations in my absence,” Chas gave his wife a mock-stern look.
“You weren’t here,” Missy said in a small voice.
“While I admire your initiative and cleverness, you put yourself, Echo, Joyce and one of my employees in danger,” he chided her gently, his eyes filled with love and concern.
“I know.”
“And now I can’t get Holly to stop asking me if she can get certified to become a P.I.,” he sighed with a smile.
“I’ve created a monster?” Missy grinned.
“So it would seem,” Chas smiled at his adorable wife.
“Ringo was quite helpful as well.”
“Yeah, he told me that he put on a little weight while I was gone, and that some “righteous chicks” had a “dude” bring him goodies in exchange for favors. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you?”
Missy made a zipping motion across her lips and shook her head.
“What am I going to do with you?” Chas chuckled, taking her into his arms.
“A swim sounds nice,” she murmured against his chest, disappointed when his phone rang.
Chas glanced at the screen and answered it.
“Beckett here…I understand…Yes, I will…Yes sir…Thank you,” he hung up quickly.
“It’s been a while since I was summoned to the Chief’s office,” he mused, tucking his cell phone into his pocket.
“I spoke with him after the arrest. He apologized to me for Detective Solinsky’s behavior and thanked me for the role that I played in apprehending the suspect,” Missy beamed proudly.
“That’s how you found out all the details. Oh boy, I’m sure I’ll hear about that when I talk to him,” Chas shook his head, amused.
“I think Timothy Eckels misses you.”
“It’s a shame that Solinsky treats him badly. Eckels is a real asset to the department,” Chas made a face.
“Solinsky treats everyone badly,” Missy grimaced, having been eyed with suspicion by the irascible detective on more than one occasion.
“I feel for the Chief, this can’t be making his job any easier,” Chas sighed.
“Well, go talk to the man. He’ll probably appreciate your input.”
“Not much for me to do at this point – the murderer is in jail, but I’ll be happy to go talk about it.”
“Hurry back, I’ll put on my swim suit,” Missy batted her eyes.
“I’ll be back in record time,” Chas promised, with a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Good, because Echo made me buy a bikini while you were gone,” she winked.
“I knew I liked that gal,” Chas chuckled on his way out the door.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
* * *
Spencer Bengal, the young Marine veteran who had gone from being Chas Beckett’s bodyguard to working for him as a junior P.I., had a heavy heart this evening, for lots of reasons. His on-again-off-again girlfriend, famous horror writer Izzy Gilmore, had moved back to New York, without warning, and he hadn’t heard from her since. All of his calls and texts had been ignored. He knew that she was alive and well, he’d tracked her trips and expenditures, not to stalk her, but just to know that she was okay. He’d been dismayed to find that when he returned from Illinois, the cozy pink cottage, that she’d bought when she moved to Calgon, had a For Sale sign in front of it.
Spencer’s only wish was that she’d be happy, though it hurt to finally admit that they just weren’t the right match for each other. He’d continue to enjoy her company through the words of her books, and would cheer her successes from afar.
What weighed most heavily on the young man’s heart this evening was the suffering of his friend and former brother-at-arms, Janssen, whose real name, he’d discovered, was Will Channing. The two had served together in a covert program in Afghanistan, and had weathered some pretty chilling circumstances together, working for the government in a secret capacity.
Janssen had spent the last year, since the two came back from combat, trying to acclimate to civilian life, and finding it nearly impossible. He’d lived off of the land for a year, since the two came back from combat, trying to acclimate to civilian life, and finding it nearly impossible. He’d lived off the land and stayed out of sight of humans for the most part,
trying to work through the nightmares and pain of the past.
When he’d at last worked up the courage to approach his wife and thirteen year old son, who had been told by the government that he was dead, he didn’t receive quite the reception that he’d hoped, which caused him to seriously doubt whether or not he’d ever be able to function in polite society, or the intimate realm of a family. It was obvious that Janssen loved his wife and son so profoundly that it hurt, but the question plaguing him now was whether or not love was enough to bridge the gap that had been caused by governmentally mandated deception.
Spencer had encouraged his friend to come back to Calgon with him, hoping that he could help him work through his emotions, as well as allowing Janssen’s wife the space that she’d requested. From the way he’d described it to Spencer, Rossalyn Channing had looked like she’d seen a ghost when her husband, whose empty casket she’d buried nearly a year ago, appeared.
Spencer lived in a guest house at the back of the estate that Missy and Chas had recently purchased and renovated, so that he could provide an extra measure of security for the heir of the Beckett family fortune. Janssen would be staying with him there, indefinitely, and would be helping out at Chas’s agency to earn his keep.
He slept on the floor, not having been able to become accustomed to sleeping in a bed again, after surviving some harrowing experiences in the Middle East, and often went for long treks during the middle of the night, when nightmares as fresh as blood on a battleground haunted him. Every creak of the house settling, every groan of the wind making the palm trees sway and the palmetto leaves skitter against each other, put him on full alert, his keen senses attuned to every sound and scent.
Spencer was going to try his best to help ease Janssen back into real life, and was hoping that he could find a compassionate professional who would help him out. In the meantime, he’d give his friend the space that he needed, and would pretend not to notice the swollen redness of his eyes after yet another sleepless and tearful night.
One of the things that he’d be using to try to get Janssen’s mind off of his misery, was a serial killer case that he wanted to wrap up personally. Timothy Eckels’ wife a notorious killer, and she’d been nearly within Spencer’s grasp twice and slipped through his fingers. With Janssen’s help, he was determined to find her and bring her in so that justice would finally be done.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
“Check it out, Timmy,” Fiona shoved the morning paper under her boss’s nose. “You’re a hero.”
“I don’t read newspapers,” the mortician said mildly, blinking at her.
“I know. You don’t read newspapers, you don’t watch the news, you don’t listen to the radio, I get it. You’ve got to let go of her,” she said earnestly, referring to the specter of his wife and the horrors she’d committed. “What she did wasn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t let her keep you in emotional prison for the rest of your life,” Fiona asserted, eyebrows raised, hands on hips.
“This is a workplace, and your comments are entirely inappropriate,” his mask slammed firmly into place.
“Yeah, they always are. Especially when they involve something that scares you to your foundations,” she tossed the paper on the desk in front of him. “The Chief of Police had some good things to say about you. You should be proud,” she stared at the top of his head because he steadfastly refused to meet her gaze. “Somebody other than me should be anyway,” she muttered, and slipped quietly out of the room.
**
“I know that you’re in private practice right now, Chas, but I could sure use you around here,” the Chief pulled no punches.
“What about Solinsky?”
“One more strike and he’s out. I’ve got a paper trail a mile long on his incompetence. It borders on dereliction of duty. Between you, me and the fence post, if there’s one more screw up, he gets his walking papers. I’ll need somebody working homicide while I find a replacement, and you’re the man I’d like to see on the job,” the Chief shrugged.
“My presence here would cause a great deal of friction with Solinsky,” Chas said carefully, not committing to anything.
“Good, maybe he’ll leave and I won’t have to fire him.”
“Using me as an irritant, Chief?” Chas smirked.
“No, using you as the best homicide detective I’ve ever worked with, bar none. If that also happens to help me get rid of Solinsky, I’m certainly not opposed to the idea,” the Chief’s mouth twitched in amusement.
“I do have an extra guy at the agency right now, which will free up some of my time,” Chas mused.
“I’m not asking you to come back permanently, although that door is absolutely open, I just need your help during Solinsky’s transition out, and the new detective’s transition in. Can you help me out?”
“Before I can give you an answer, I do need to discuss it with Missy.”
“Of course, I’d expect nothing less. Talk to her, chew on it a little bit, and let me know – the sooner the better.”
“Will do,” Chas nodded. “Eckels came through again,” he commented.
“The guy is an odd duck, but he’s a genius when it comes to pulling clues from the stiffs. I got the city council to approve a raise for him, but he turned it down.”
“What? Why?” Chas frowned.
“Said that he’d rather have the money in the form of a scholarship so that his assistant can go to mortuary school.”
“So there’s a pretty generous guy hiding under that lab coat and glasses,” Chas nodded. “I suspected as much.”
“He and Solinsky are like oil and water,” the Chief shook his head.
“From what I understand, Solinsky has that effect on folks,” Chas stood to go.
“Good seeing you again, Beckett. Think about what I said and let me know,” the Chief shook his hand.
“You’ll know as soon as I do,” Chas promised.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
* * *
“I’m so glad that you were able to join us this morning, Joyce,” Missy beamed, placing a steaming cup of coffee and a tray of cupcakes in front of the young woman.
“It sure beats going to the gym,” Joyce joked.
It had taken her a few weeks to get over being stalked and the reality of Andre’s death, but she had bounced back and decided that she was better suited to the curvy lifestyle.
“You and Echo do this every morning?” she was astonished.
“Just about,” Echo grinned. “Coffee and cupcakes are a great way to start the day.”
“No wonder you’re always in such a good mood,” Joyce grinned. “Missy, I’m a baker from way back, and these have to be the best cupcakes I’ve ever had,” she enthused, slowly chewing a bite of nutty fudge cupcake.
“Thanks, I’m glad you like them. Join us anytime,” she invited.
“I heard that Spencer was back in town,” Joyce tried to sound casual, but the rising blush beneath her mocha skin gave her away.
“He is, but he’s dealing with a breakup, so give him some space,” Echo warned.
“You know what guys dealing with a breakup need? My home cooking, that’s what,” Joyce asserted.
“He did rave about your cooking,” Missy nodded.
“See,” Joyce said triumphantly, taking another bite of cupcake.
“Just take it slowly,” Echo cautioned, ever-protective.
Spencer had helped her start her candle-making business by sitting with her and dipping candles for hours. The young man held a special place in her heart, and while she thought that he and Joyce would make a great couple, she knew that he was dealing with emotional issues of his own.
“Honey, after that last mess at the gym, I’ll take it anyway that I can get it,” Joyce wisecracked. “I gotta get going so that we can open up on time. Can I get a to-go cup?” she asked, holding up her mug of coffee.
“You betcha,” Missy popped up from her seat to grab a cup.
“W
hew,” Echo breathed, after Joyce left. “Maybe now we’ll all have a chance to catch our breath.”
“I sure hope so. Chas is going to be spending more time at the station for a while, so we’ll have lots of chances for girl time, and I’d love to include Joyce – she’s a hoot!”
“Yes, she is. I’m lucky I found her. She runs the bookstore and candle shop single-handedly most of the time.”
“Is your studio up and running again?”
“Thankfully, yes,” Echo’s expression was thoughtful for a moment.
“Uh-oh…” Missy stared at her best friend. “I know that look…what are you up to, young lady?”
“Nothing,” Echo widened her eyes in mock-innocence. “I just think that Spencer and Joyce could make an awfully cute couple,” she grinned devilishly, then took a sip of her coffee.
“You stop it,” Missy chided. “Leave that boy alone. Let nature take care of things.”
“Sometimes nature needs a little encouragement.”
“What about telling Joyce to take it slow?” Missy challenged.
“Oh, that was just me trying to sound responsible.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“That’s why we’re friends.”
Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved
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