Horse Drawn Homicide: A Senoia Cozy Mystery

by Susan Harper

  “Brian, I am so sorry! I completely forgot about our date,” she said.

  Brian frowned, but only for a moment. He seemed to have a hard time holding a grudge with her. He glanced over her shoulder toward Jack and Jefferson, obviously taking note that the men were dressed like they were ready to hit the road. “It’s quite all right, Felicity. Were you planning on going somewhere?”

  “Blue Ridge,” she said. “We were going to drive up and talk to a suspect in Wanda’s case.”

  Brian pursed his lips and nodded for a moment as though he was contemplating his response. He then smiled. “Okay, I’m in,” he said and winked at her. “That is, if you’ll let me come. I could use some mountain views.”

  “Oh! Wow, really?” she questioned. “We’re leaving right now, and it’s quite a drive.”

  “Sounds fun, right, fellas?” he asked over her shoulder toward Jack and Jefferson, who both nodded politely at his request and bit their tongues to prevent themselves from saying anything rash.

  “Well, okay then!” Felicity said. “I can’t believe you’re not mad at me for forgetting you were supposed to pick me up at the shop tonight!”

  “I’m honestly just glad I caught you before you left,” he said with a laugh. “And, besides, it’s pretty hard to get mad at you, Felicity.”

  She smiled and thanked him again for being so understanding. The four of them headed out back where they loaded up into Jefferson’s vehicle. Jefferson got behind the wheel, Jack sat passenger, and Felicity sat behind Jefferson with Brian at her side. And so began the long journey north.

  At first, the thought of a quick road trip with three of her favorite guys had sounded quite pleasant, but she grew to regret the decision rather quickly. The tension was evident the moment they all locked themselves in the little vehicle. For the first hour, they spoke very little, and ultimately Jack and Jefferson wound up in a conversation of their own to prevent themselves from having to talk to Brian. It was fairly obvious to Felicity what the two men were doing, but she just hoped that Brian didn’t catch on.

  Once that first hour passed and an awkward silence threatened them, Jefferson turned on the radio. By then, the sun had started to set, making the sky out to be a rather colorful spectacle. The scenery was magnificent, and it gave the group something to chatter about. They were coming into their third hour when things at last started to get a bit heated when Jefferson asked about Brian’s work.

  “I enjoy what I do,” Brian said. “I really feel like I’m making a difference in the world.” Jack snorted, and Felicity felt her stomach twist into knots. “You got something to say to me, Jack?” Brian asked.

  “No,” Jack responded, and Felicity nudged Brian, hoping he would get the hint that she didn’t want him to press.

  He didn’t. “No, please,” Brian said. “If you have something to say to me, I’d rather just get it out in the open.”

  “It’s nothing,” Jack repeated, giving Brian a second chance to drop it.

  He still didn’t. “I’m serious, Jack. What’s your problem?”

  “Fine,” Jack snarled. “You’re some big-shot defense attorney who’s making his fortune off defending big name criminals in the Atlanta area. You literally make a living off screwing over innocent people by putting thugs back on the street.”

  Brian smirked. “You know what one of my favorite cases was last year?” he said, though it was fairly rhetorical since he didn’t give Jack or anyone a chance to respond. “It was this pro bono case—in Senoia. A few house robberies just outside of Coweta County, I’m sure you remember it. Suspect stabbed a woman leaving the last house and made his getaway into little old Senoia. Then this stupid, racist cop arrested my client—Logan was the kid’s name—all because he was a black kid walking the streets at night. The suspect wasn’t even black, he was white.”

  “Screw you!” Jack suddenly snapped.

  “Jack, what’s wrong?” Felicity asked

  “He’s talking about my partner, Patrick,” Jack said. “He’s not racist! The suspect was seen running along Highway 16 into Senoia wearing a black hoodie. Patrick saw a kid walking down 16 into Senoia wearing a black hoodie, and when he tried to talk to the kid, he ran! Patrick did what any officer would have done and chased him down and arrested him, and you and your little team of lawyers almost cost Patrick his badge by crying racism!”

  “The actual suspect—a white teenager—was caught two weeks after our court case,” Brian said. “That first kid almost went to prison because of your partner’s mistake in identity.”

  “If you were a half-decent defense attorney, you wouldn’t have had to go after the cop to prove that kid’s innocence,” Jack snarled. “You didn’t even bother looking into the actual case. You immediately and unfairly went after Patrick, who had just been doing his job. He was told to pick up a kid walking down the road in a black hoodie, and guess what he did? He picked up a kid walking down the road in a black hoodie! That kid didn’t even think Patrick’s actions were racially motivated until you put that crap in his head!”

  “The point is, I kept that poor kid from going to prison. That’s what I do. It’s true that in my line of work I do sometimes work with unsavory clients, but that’s the job, Jack,” Brian said, his voice raising. “I swear, you’ve had a problem with me since the first day I met you. What’s the matter? You upset to see your ex-girlfriend with someone successful while all you’ve ever amounted to is a small town cop in some backwards small town USA?”

  “Brian!” Felicity yelped.

  Jefferson snapped at Brian. “You know what, man? Forget you! Jack’s a good guy and a good cop. And he’s a detective, you prick!”

  “And what are you?” Brian questioned. “Some silly assistant party planner?”

  “That’s enough!” Felicity roared and flung her fist into Brian’s chest, almost knocking the air out of him. “I’m a party planner too, Brian. Do you think that makes me silly too? That I didn’t amount to anything because I just plan parties?”

  “What! No, that’s not what I said at all!” Brian wheezed.

  “Shut up! All three of you! I don’t want to hear another word until we reach the cabin!” Felicity yelled.

  “Fine by me,” Jefferson muttered. “But we’re pretty much there now anyway.” Jefferson pulled them down a long gravel driveway deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  “Felicity, I’m sorry,” Brian started. “I certainly didn’t mean to imply that I think what you do is silly or—”

  “Save it,” she ordered, and he kept his mouth shut. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, let’s just drop it.”

  Eventually, they reached the end of a long driveway. The quaint little cabin rested alongside a creek on one side and an enormous horse pasture on the other. Just beyond the creek, they could see a beautiful starry sky above the mountains. “Beautiful,” Felicity muttered, wishing she was not so frustrated with Brian, Jack, and Jefferson to where she felt she could not enjoy the view.

  There was a thick layer of snow all around as they stepped out of the car. Jack led the way up to the cabin, and the rest of them followed close behind. He went to knock on the door, and when he did, it creaked open. “Um…” Jack hesitated and touched his gun at his side for a moment. “Miss Claudia Bates?” he called out and pushed the door open. “Oh God!” Jack called, darting into the cabin before the others.

  “What is it, Jack?” Felicity asked, rushing after him. The lights to the cabin were on, and she saw immediately what had caused Jack to cry out. Claudia had hung herself from the rafters.

  Chapter 9

  After Jack and Brian pulled Claudia down from the rafters, Jack checked her pulse and shook his head. She was dead, and had been for a while now. Brian and Jefferson sat uncomfortably next to one another on the small loveseat while Jack spoke on his cellphone with his partner, Patrick, about calling in a local crime scene team for assistance.

  While Jack was distracted with his phone call, Felicity took it upon
herself to have a look around. It was a small cabin—the front door opened up into a split living area and kitchen with an enormous fire place. A hall jutted off straight ahead where there were a few bedrooms, and in the kitchen area, a steep flight of stairs led up to a loft. At the base of those same stairs was a doorway leading out onto a porch that looked out over the mountain edge.

  Felicity’s instincts drew her to the kitchen where she spotted a yellow legal-bound notepad seated on one of the counters. A note was scribbled onto the top page.

  For Years I’ve held a deep hatred for Wanda. It was here that my best friend, DeAnn, died because of her carelessness. I’ve tried for years to get over what happened, but I couldn’t. I felt like Wanda had to die, but now that I have killed her I can no longer live with that guilt. To the Monroe family, I am so sorry for taking another one of your loved ones from you. To my own family, I am sorry for what I have become. I love you all,

  Claudia Bates

  As Felicity was reading the note, Jefferson appeared behind her. “Suicide note?” he asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Whoa, and a confession?”

  “I don’t buy it,” Felicity hissed as she snapped a picture. “Not for a second. Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “I’d say so,” Jack said as he hung up his cell phone. “The door was wide open, and it looks like someone kicked it in. I have to make all of you guys leave the cabin. We have to wait outside. We’re outside of my jurisdiction here, and I’m going to have to sign her body over to the Fannin County coroner when he gets here, and we’re all going to have to answers some question for the local police.”

  “Great,” Brian muttered as he rose from his seat. Jack ushered all of them out.

  “Hopefully, Patrick is sweet-talking the local police,” Jack muttered. “We’re going to have to work with them to get information about Claudia to help us with Wanda’s case.”

  They all waited outside. By now, it was pitch black apart from the headlights of Jefferson’s car. The four of them stood around the hood of the vehicle waiting impatiently for the local police and the local coroner to arrive. Being so far out into the mountains, Felicity could imagine that they would be waiting for a while.

  “So you don’t think Claudia murdered Wanda?” Felicity asked Jack.

  Jack shook his head. “No. I’ve been doing some interviews with friends and family. Sounds like Wanda and Claudia got really close after DeAnn died, and they still were. No one I talked to seemed to think that Claudia held any sort of grudge against Wanda. The only person who ever blamed Wanda for what happened to DeAnn was Wanda herself.”

  “The handwriting,” Felicity muttered as she looked at her cell phone pictures. “Yeah, just what I thought. The handwriting for the suicide note doesn’t match the handwriting of the note that Autumn and I found on Wanda.”

  “You’ve been to the morgue too?” Brian asked. “You really are quite a detective.”

  Felicity rolled her eyes slightly. She was still upset about the way Brian had acted toward Jack and Jefferson. No amount of flattery was going to make that go away. “Yeah. Someone had slipped Wanda a rather threatening note before her death. Presumably the person who killed her. And the handwriting doesn’t match the writing of the suicide note. The suicide note is really feminine looking to me, but it’s shaky. Like, really shaky.”

  “Well, yeah,” Jefferson said. “She was about to kill herself. Wouldn’t you be a little shaky too?”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. “I’ve dealt with suicide cases before. Some people are nervous, but others have a serious moment of calm right before. It’s possible that Claudia was forced to write that note.”

  “So you think Claudia was murdered too?” Brian asked. “And forced to write her own suicide note and confession before whoever killed her staged it to look like a suicide?”

  “Exactly,” Jack said. “But we’ll have to see what the police and forensic pathologist come up with.” He nodded toward the distance where they could see blue and red lights flashing.

  Felicity, Jefferson, and Brian were asked to remain standing by the car while Jack went and spoke with the local authorities, explaining their situation. The police got to work on the crime scene, and the coroner arrived not long after. They all gave the police their statements, and after close to two hours of waiting around, they were sent on their way.

  “I’m exhausted,” Jefferson moaned as they pulled out of the long driveway.

  Felicity nodded from the backseat as she continued comparing the handwriting of the two notes on her phone. “The handwriting from the first note is ridiculously neat,” she said. “Like, almost perfect.”

  “They did a handwriting analysis,” Jack said. “But they didn’t really come up with much. I believe they said they think it was a man who wrote it.”

  “Really?” Felicity questioned. “Men always have terrible handwriting.”

  “Seriously?” Jefferson questioned with a laugh. “I’m always in charge of the calligraphy at work because you write chicken scratch.”

  “I still haven’t finished that calligraphy course, all right?” Felicity griped. “But in all seriousness, whoever wrote that threatening note to Wanda has some seriously beautiful handwriting. And it’s print, not cursive.”

  “Not sure if that means anything,” Brian said.

  “I don’t know,” Felicity said. “Print seems more intentional—you have to take your time with it to make it look this neat. Younger people tend to write in print too. They don’t really teach cursive much in school anymore, since everything is turning digital.”

  It wasn’t long until they were all trapped in an awkward silence once again as the conversation faded. There was still some tension from their argument earlier that evening. Brian had offered half-hearted apologies to both Jack and Jefferson, and they had responded with unpleasant grunts and acceptances.

  In an attempt to fill the void, Felicity brought up the crime scene again. “Did you get a chance to see anything before you had to turn over the crime scene, Jack?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Jack said. “But I’m not sure exactly what I saw. I want to say that it looked like she had cuts on her head—like someone had scratched her holding her head by her hair. But I didn’t really get a close enough look to say so for sure.”

  It grew quiet again, so Felicity pulled her cell phone out and started texting Autumn. She smiled when she learned that Autumn was working the night shift at the hospital. “Hey, Jefferson,” she called up to the driver. “Do me a favor and drop me off at Newnan Hospital. I’ll catch a ride home from Autumn.” She smiled to see all three men cringe uncomfortably. She didn’t care, though. Frankly, after the ridiculous banter that had taken place between them, she felt that they deserved to be trapped in a car together without her for the twenty-minute ride back to Senoia.

  Chapter 10

  Felicity gave the guys a quick wave as she made her way up toward the hospitals entrance. It was nearly five in the morning, and Autumn would be getting off shift soon. Autumn rarely worked the dead hours at the hospital as the forensic pathologist, but she would have one to two of the nightmarish shifts a month. Felicity made her way inside and headed down into the morgue, taking the elevator to get there.

  Autumn looked almost like a zombie with how tired she was after her long night. Felicity didn’t feel too different from how Autumn looked. “Long night?” Autumn asked, yawning slightly.

  “You have no idea,” Felicity said. “Did you call your friend out in Fannin County for me?”

  “You know I did,” Autumn said, slouching against the counter of the morgue’s lobby. “But they don’t have much for me yet. He says the investigation team believes that Claudia did write the suicide note, but that she was likely forced to do so. They’re calling it a homicide right now based on what he found. Her wrist was broken, and some of her hair had been pulled out.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Felicity said. “It’s probably safe to assume that whoever killed Wanda
also killed Claudia to try to throw the police off their tracks. But this sure was sloppy.”

  “Claudia probably put up more fight than the killer expected,” Autumn said. “My bet would be that Claudia knows the killer as intimately as Wanda. The killer probably thought that they’d be able to overpower her from surprise.”

  “Ugh, so far I’ve got nothing,” Felicity admitted as she skimmed through her notebook. “And I mean nothing. I suppose anyone who had a grudge against Wanda could have done it. Someone who knew Claudia well enough to believe they’d be able to convince the police that Claudia was a suspect. That pretty much narrows it down to every single person in Wanda’s circle of friends and family. And that woman knows everyone!”

  “Well, I’m sure once you get some more pieces to the puzzle, you’ll figure it out. So far, you have a pretty impressive track record,” Autumn said and grabbed her purse after hanging up her work attire. “Okay, I’m ready to get out of here. I’m guessing I’m your ride?”

  “Yes, please,” Felicity said and laughed slightly to herself as the two of them boarded the elevator.

  “So how did it go with Brian in the car with the boys on that long drive?” Autumn asked curiously as they exited the elevator on the main floor and headed for the parking lot.

  “It was a nightmare,” Felicity groaned. “They hate each other, Autumn.”

  “Wow, really?” Autumn questioned, unlocking her car so that the two of them could climb in. “Bur Brian seems like such a nice guy. I think Jack and Jefferson are just a little jealous. I mean, it’s obvious they’re both totally in love with you.”

  “That’s not funny, Autumn,” Felicity quipped, buckling herself in as Autumn zipped out of the parking lot.

  “I know,” Autumn said. “I’m dead serious. I wish I had your problem. Telling men you work with dead people is a major mood killer. You’d be surprised at what a deal breaker it is when you tell a guy about your day and it involves cutting into a corpse.”