Baby Back Murder: Hawg Heaven Cozy Culinary Mysteries Book 2

by Summer Prescott

  “I know you’ve been asked this a hundred times by now, but did you see anyone, or anything out of the ordinary on the day that the cameraman was killed?”

  “No sir, I didn’t,” Sam glanced over briefly, then returned his gaze to the water.

  In the short time that he had his face turned, Morgan noticed that he had nasty purple splotches on his face. It looked as though he’d been in a fight.

  “You think you’re safe out here alone, considering what happened? Looks like you’ve run into some trouble yourself.”

  “Bar fight.”

  “Really? Here in town? I hadn’t heard about one recently.”

  “Nah, over in the next county. I’ll be all right.”

  “I hope so, because it chills me to the bone to think that there’s a killer lurking around this property. Mr. Hellman is getting on in years, I’d hate to see anything happen to him.”

  No response.

  “It’s a shame that the new gal in town won’t be coming out here anymore,” Morgan remarked, casually picking at a hangnail and watching for a reaction with peripheral vision.

  “She ain’t?” Sam asked quietly.

  “Nope, too scared. I think she kinda feels responsible too, since she’s the one who set the whole thing up with the TV and the cameraman and all.”

  “She did?”

  “Yep. Kinda makes me wonder if she might be the one who did it.”

  Sam shook his head. “Nope.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “No. She didn’t do it.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She just didn’t.”

  “Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Morgan stood, eyeing Sam carefully. “Thanks for the conversation.” The officer turned to leave and happened to notice something. “Hey, those are nice boots that you’ve got there,” he commented, staring at Sam’s feet. “Those look new.”

  “They ain’t.”

  “You obviously take good care of them then. More power to ya.”

  Morgan looked thoughtful as he made his way to the treeline. He listened hard and looked over his shoulder periodically until he was through the trees and into the clearing on the other side. Samuel Preston was hiding something, he was sure of it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  *

  Rossalyn had hoped that she would’ve heard back from Morgan Tyler after he spoke with Sam yesterday, but she hadn’t, as yet, so she was still being careful. The breakfast rush was just petering out when the officer came in and took a seat at the counter. After bringing him his breakfast, when he was the last one left in the café, Rossie stood in front of him, on the other side of the counter.

  “Did you find out anything from Sam?”

  “I think he’s hiding something. Nothing I can put my finger on, just a gut feeling based upon his eye movements and the way he answered my questions. Looks like somebody beat on him a little bit though. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you?” he asked, chewing the corner from a piece of toast.

  Rossie’s mind immediately flashed to Tom Hundman’s bruised and cut left hand.

  “Well, I… umm…”

  “Might as well tell me,” Morgan advised. “If Sam is the killer, whoever beat him up could be called as a witness.”

  “Oh geez, he’ll just love that,” Rossalyn muttered, shaking her head.

  “Who?” Morgan persisted.

  “Tom Hundman.”

  The officer looked at her closely for a moment. “Why would Tom Hundman have reason to get involved?”

  “Well, I told you that I asked him to make sure that Ryan got to school safely.”

  “Yes, but it’s a bit of a leap to think that he went from watching your son walk to school to beating up a suspect.”

  Rossie sighed again, not wanting to reveal what she’d seen, but feeling like she had to. “I’m not sure if he’s left-handed or not, but when he came in for dinner last night, his knuckles were bruised and cut,” she admitted, however reluctantly.

  Morgan raised his eyebrows, looking pensive. “Interesting. Could be a coincidence,” he mused. “I’ll keep it in mind, in case it becomes something that I need to follow up on.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “You, do nothing, just stay vigilant until this thing is settled. I’m leaning toward Sam as the killer, but I also found out some things about Stella that gave me pause for thought.”

  “Oh? Like what? Are you able to tell me?”

  “I don’t see why not, it’s a matter of public record if you choose to seek it out and know where to look. Stella apparently has quite the temper, and has been charged in the past for domestic violence, locking her naked ex-boyfriend out in sub-zero temperatures while setting fire to his clothing, and vandalizing another ex’s truck.”

  “Wow, that sounds a bit… unstable. Maybe I’m not the only one that she’s gone after with a baseball bat.”

  “Exactly. Crimes of passion, all of them,” Morgan nodded.

  “And Rick said that she and Parker had a fight right before he died,” Rossalyn remembered, her eyes growing wide.

  “Really? That’s not in any of the reports that I’ve seen.”

  “Maybe he didn’t think it was relevant, so he didn’t tell the sheriff,” she shrugged. Rick definitely didn’t seem like the type who would cover up criminal behavior if he suspected it, even if it was by one of his employees.

  “Did he say what the fight was about?” Morgan asked.

  Rossalyn shook her head. “No, he just said that she felt terrible about it because they fought and then he died.”

  “I’ll have to find some excuse to give Rick a call and see if I can get him to talk. His information is in the initial report, since he was Parker’s boss.”

  “Has the sheriff made any progress at all?”

  “Not from what I can see. He’s still reserving you as a person of interest,” Morgan rolled his eyes.

  “Then doesn’t it make it a conflict of interest for you to talk to me?”

  “Nope, not at all. Since you are a person of interest, the more information that I can get out of you, the better, and I’m not officially a part of this investigation, so technically, I’m not bound by any sorts of restrictions.”

  “I just don’t want anyone to get in trouble,” she worried.

  “And I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Morgan finished his meal and pushed back his plate. “Don’t worry, Rossalyn, Sheriff Buckley Willis isn’t half as smart as he thinks he is.”

  Rossie snorted with derision before she could stop herself, and they both chuckled.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” the officer smiled, leaving a stack of bills on the counter.

  “Will do, thanks Morgan.”

  ***

  Tom Hundman was sitting at the top of her porch steps, and made quite an imposing figure, his motorcycle-booted feet crossed in front of him, arms folded across his chest. The glower on his face clued her in to the fact that he clearly was not happy about something.

  “Tom? How long have you been out here? I just wanted you to make sure Ryan got back and forth to school okay, I certainly didn’t mean for you to stand guard while he’s at home,” she exclaimed.

  “Ain’t here for that,” he muttered, his eyes like chips of flint.

  “Oh. Well, why are you here then? If you’re hungry, I have some leftovers,” she held out the paper bag that she was carrying.

  “Ain’t here for food either,” he frowned, irritated. “You told the police I beat up that vagrant out at Hellman’s place.”

  “No, I didn’t… exactly. They just kind of figured it out. Did you beat up Sam Preston?”

  “What do you think?” he challenged.

  “But… why?”

  “He needed to know that you can’t go around messing with people’s kids. My own daughter got murdered, ain’t nobody else’s kid getting murdered on my watch,” he growled, clenching his fists.

&nb
sp; “So it was to protect Ryan?” she asked softly. “I certainly can’t fault you for that.”

  “Cop made it sound like he suspected me of killing that dude,” he shook his head bitterly.

  “But that’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t have any reason to kill a stranger from out of town.”

  Tom let out a harsh, derisive laugh. “You’ve got a lot to learn, newbie. In this town, little things like facts and common sense aren’t worth anything. It don’t have to make no sense. When something bad happens, there’s gonna be some folks whose eyes will turn to me first,” he stood. “That’s just the way it is. You fight for your country and do all that you can to make your small town safe for the kids, and they treat you like an animal,” Tom brushed off the seat of his pants.

  “I’m really sorry,” Rossie murmured, as the biker started down the walk to his house.

  “You get used to it after a while,” he replied in a resigned tone. “It ain’t right, but that’s just how it is.”

  Without another word, he walked to the corner and made the turn toward his house, disappearing from her sight. Rossie shivered from standing in the cold and went in to Ryan, who, thanks in part to the mountain of a man who’d just left, was sitting safely on the couch, playing video games.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  *

  Rossalyn was sitting at the counter in her kitchen, having coffee and reviewing a food order for a supplier, when her phone rang. She glanced at her watch, puzzled. Who on earth would be calling her at five o’clock in the morning? Her heart sped up a bit, hoping that something wasn’t wrong, but her worry grew when she pulled her phone out of her pocket and saw that the incoming call was from José.

  “José? What’s wrong?” she asked, without preamble.

  “Miss Rossalyn, I’m at work, you need to come down here right away,” the young man replied, his worried tone chilling her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but you need to come down here,” he repeated.

  “Okay. I’ll be right there,” she promised.

  Ryan was still in bed, so she quickly pulled on her coat, and texted him about where she would be, knowing that he’d get the info when he woke up. Locking the door securely behind her, she practically sprinted to the garage, glad that she wouldn’t have to scrape frost off of her windshield on this chilly morning.

  When Rossalyn pulled into the parking lot of Hawg Heaven, she was surprised to see that José was standing out front with a rather sleepy-looking Garrett, hands shoved into his pockets.

  “José, what’s wrong?” she asked, rushing up to the shivering cook. “Let’s get you inside,” she shoved the key into the lock to open the door.

  “We can’t get inside,” he replied.

  “Why not?” Rossie asked, unlocking the door and trying to pull it open.

  “Come see,” Garrett said grimly, walking toward the corner of the building.

  Rossalyn glanced at José and hurried to follow Garrett, who didn’t stop at the side of the building, but went all the way to the back door, which gaped open about two inches.

  “Why is the door open?” Rossie asked, scared.

  “Look,” Garrett pointed down to the floor, where the door was stuck in about half an inch of ice.

  Rossalyn was puzzled. “Where did the ice come from?” she murmured, noting that there was a trail of ice that looked as though it had seeped out of the door.

  José spoke, shaking his head in disbelief. “Garrett boosted me up so that I could see inside the kitchen window, and it looks like a pipe broke or something. The whole kitchen floor must’ve gotten flooded and now it’s covered in ice.”

  “But… why is the door open? Did you two open it?”

  “No ma’am,” Garrett shook his head. “It was like that when we got here.”

  “It doesn’t make sense, because the door opens inward, so it’s not like the ice could’ve forced it open,” Rossie murmured.

  “It looks like water ran out here and then froze,” José pointed to the pool of ice outside the door.

  “So, if it was water when it came out, I understand why there’s ice out here, but why would the entire kitchen floor have frozen? The building is heated,” she frowned.

  “Do you want Garrett to boost me up again? I can go in through the window and see what’s going on in there,” José suggested.

  “Okay, but be careful.”

  The three of them went around to the side window, and Garrett boosted José up to the window. After a few seconds of grunting and struggling, the young man managed to push the window up far enough to wiggle through it, dropping down inside. Rossalyn and Garrett heard a thump and a groan.

  “José, are you okay?” she called out, making a megaphone with her hands.

  “The whole floor is covered with ice. I slipped, but I’m fine. I’m going to go to the side door on the patio and see if I can open it,” the young man’s voice was muffled, but he didn’t sound like he was in pain.

  “Be careful,” she cautioned, chewing on her lower lip with worry.

  “Okay,” José’s voice grew fainter as he moved toward the front door.

  Rossalyn and Garrett went around to the front to talk to José through the door. They waited for him to assess the situation and soon heard loud thuds coming from directly behind the door.

  “José? What’s going on?” Rossie shouted into the crack of the door.

  “I’m chopping the ice in front of the door away with a tenderizing hammer. It’s getting pretty banged up, but I’ll buy a new one,” he promised, sounding out of breath.

  “You’ll do no such thing. This is in no way your fault,” she called back.

  “Getting closer. Just a few more minutes.”

  “Just be careful,” she warned again.

  A few minutes later, they heard a cracking sound, followed by a scraping sound, and José pulled the door open, nearly slipping on the ice and falling again. Rossalyn was horrified at what she saw. The entire floor had a thick coating of ice, and she shook her head in disbelief.

  “The heater was turned off,” José explained. “I checked the thermostat.”

  “That’s impossible… I always check the thermostat before I leave, because I turn it down for the night,” Rossie replied, stepping gingerly on the sheet of ice that covered the eating area.

  She made her way to the thermostat, while José and Garrett glided over to the kitchen, holding onto the backs of chairs, whose legs were frozen into the ice, for balance.

  Rossalyn looked at the thermostat and confirmed that it had indeed been turned off. She sighed heavily, reached to turn it back on, then drew back, thinking. Reaching into her purse, she took out a nail file and used it to flip the switch back on. The heater roared to life immediately.

  “Miss Rossalyn!” Garrett called from the kitchen.

  “On my way, hang on,” she called back, sliding her feet along, hands held out to her sides for balance.

  When she got to the kitchen, she saw José and Garrett standing in front of the sink, staring at it, and her stomach churned at their strange expression.

  “What?” she asked, heart filled with dread.

  They just looked at her wordlessly. She slipped and slid over to the sink, which was clearly the source of all of the ice in the building, judging by the waterfall that had frozen over its front edge. Garrett stepped aside so that she could look at what they were seeing, and when she did, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Underneath the half inch or so of ice that had formed on the top of the entirely filled sink, swam two fish that were just like the ones Sam had brought over to Ryan.

  “That’s a little fishy,” Garrett commented with a nervous chuckle.

  José and Rossalyn didn’t react, they just stared into the sink, watching the swimming fish. The stopper had been placed in the sink, clearly by the same person who had turned off the thermostat.

  Rossie blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears.

  “You two can go on h
ome, I’m going to call the police,” she whispered.

  “Not a chance, ma’am,” Garrett shook his head slowly. “You’re going to need help cleaning stuff up. You don’t have to pay me, but I ain’t going anywhere,” he insisted.

  “Me neither,” José crossed his arms.

  “You guys are the best,” she said shakily. “Can you wait here for the police? I have to go get Ryan.” Before someone else does, was her unspoken thought.

  “Of course,” José nodded. “We’ll get started on chipping out the back door so that we can get it shut.”

  “Thanks, I’ll be back soon,” she began the painstaking process of making her way back to the front door over the ice.

  ***

  Rossalyn called Officer Morgan Tyler on her way home, and told him about what had happened at her café.

  “There were fish swimming underneath the ice in the sink that were just like the ones that Samuel Preston brought over. I think that he may have been the one who did it,” she said sadly.

  “I can almost guarantee you that he wasn’t,” Morgan sighed on the other end.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Samuel Preston was beaten badly and left for dead sometime last night or this morning. If Franz Hellman’s dog hadn’t sniffed him out, he would’ve died of exposure for sure. I noticed a strange thing, though. When Sam was found, he was wearing a brand-new parka and new clothes. Had new boots on the other day too.”

  Rossalyn was speechless as Tom Hundman’s angry face flashed through her memory.

  “He needed to know that you can’t go around messing with people’s kids. My own daughter got murdered, ain’t nobody else’s kid getting murdered on my watch.”

  Had Tom gone off and beaten Sam after the conversation on Rossie’s porch? She certainly hoped not. Then again, he might have done it thinking that justice was being served upon a murderer. She finished her conversation with Morgan and pulled up in front of her cozy home. Her heart nearly stopped when she spotted a familiar hulking figure on her porch. Tom Hundman. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to drive straight to the police station, but a couple of things stopped her. First, he’d already seen her, and secondly, she couldn’t very well drive away, knowing that a potentially violent man was sitting on her porch with Ryan inside, entirely unaware. Her curiosity was also killing her. She had to know if Tom had beaten Samuel Preston nearly to death.