Daley Buzz Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

by Meredith Potts

  “Sabrina, why don’t you go home? I have already gotten your statement. Besides, I’ll bet you could really use some rest right now,” David said.

  His words hung in the air, begging for a response that never came.

  I didn’t mean to give him the silent treatment. It was more that my mind was still so wrapped up in thinking about Terri’s murder.

  I continued looking at the crime scene, trying to make sense of what was in front of me.

  When a dozen seconds had passed without me giving David a response, he spoke up again. “Sabrina—”

  My eyes focused on David. “Yes.”

  “You can go now,” he said.

  “Right,” I replied. My eyes were drawn to the crime scene once again.

  “Sabrina,” David said.

  I squinted at him. “What?”

  David let out a sigh. “You’re thinking of investigating Terri’s murder, aren’t you?”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “What makes you say that?”

  “It turns out that I’m a detective. Being able to read people is part of my job. And I’m pretty good at reading your body language.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me there.”

  He stared me down. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  I took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this—”

  Disappointment filled his eyes. “You are planning on investigating this case—”

  “David, I don’t want to argue with you.”

  “That’s not a denial,” he said.

  I broke eye contact.

  “You’re going to snoop around, trying to find Terri’s killer, even if I forbid you, won’t you?” he asked.

  I stared at the ground.

  “Even if I told you that you could be charged with impeding an investigation?”

  I glanced up at him. “There’s a killer on the loose. Would you really waste your time putting me behind bars just for trying to help you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t. I only asked you that question to see how determined you are to investigate this case.” He sighed. “You’re unbelievably stubborn, you know that?”

  “That’s not always a bad thing—”

  He stared me down.

  “When it comes to questioning murder suspects,” I said.

  “It turns out that being stubborn is far less appealing in a relationship.”

  “I don’t doubt that it is, and I’m sorry about that. Trust me. I wish circumstances were different right now.”

  “We both do, but life rarely works out the way you want it to.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “Isn’t that the truth?”

  David glanced back at the crime scene and exhaled. “All right. It’s time to get back to work.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Wait. Does that mean—?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I still think that the last place you should be right now is here, investigating this case.”

  He began walking back toward the scene of the crime.

  My forehead wrinkled. “You’re not going to force me to leave, then?”

  He turned back around to me. “Sabrina, you know I don’t make a habit of fighting battles that I can’t win.”

  My eyes widened. “Wait a minute. So that means—?”

  “I’m not a fool. I know that if I tell you to stay away from this case, you’ll just go behind my back. But if I let you come with me, I can at least protect you.”

  I smiled. “Trust me. You’re not going to regret this.”

  “The jury is still out on that one.”

  I bumped shoulders with him in a playful manner. “Admit it, you can use all help you can get.”

  He stared at the crime scene. “What I could use is a break in this case.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  Before I was able to focus on the details of the case again, I heard a man calling out in the background.

  “No. This can’t be happening!” the man screamed.

  I whirled around. “Who is that?”

  David turned around and stared at the man. “I don’t know, but I think we should go find out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The man in question was a long-haired forty-eight-year-old with a short, slender body. He looked like a washed-up rock star. It seemed quite fitting that he wore a Ridley’s Guitar Warehouse T-shirt. The man stood on the other side of the yellow police tape that had cordoned off the area.

  He wasn’t alone. Alongside the man stood a tall, muscular, twenty-five-year-old. He had short black hair and a goatee. A sleeve of tattoos ran up and down both of his arms. He wore a tank top and some ripped blue jeans. What an odd pair. They didn’t look at all alike.

  Standing on the other side of the yellow police tape was Deputy Robert Sterling, a muscular thirty-three-year-old who was diligent about making sure that the other two men didn’t get near the scene of the crime.

  David stared at the long-haired man. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Brendan Ridley—Terri’s boyfriend,” the man replied.

  The younger guy spoke up with a look of disapproval plastered on his face. “You mean her no-good boyfriend.”

  David turned his focus to the younger guy. “And who are you?”

  “Joshua Lutz. Terri’s son,” the younger guy replied.

  Brendan’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at a black body bag that was being carried from the scene. “Is that…is Terri—?”

  “Brendan. Joshua. I’m going to need to ask both of you some questions,” David said. “Separately.”

  ***

  David and I started with Joshua first. Our efforts to get information out of him hit an immediate snag as the gravity of the situation hit him hard. Joshua had too hard of an edge to break into tears. Instead, his body went stiff as his jaw hung open. A look of disbelief was in his eyes.

  David and I gave him some time alone to allow the news to sink in.

  A few moments later, Joshua got a faraway look in his eyes and broke the silence. “I can’t believe it. My mom is really dead.”

  Empathy was all over David’s face. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Joshua shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know this is a terrible time for you, but if we’re going to find out who killed your mother, I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me,” David said.

  Joshua nodded. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

  “To start, can you think of anyone who would have wanted your mother dead?”

  Joshua narrowed his eyes. “That no-good boyfriend of hers.”

  “Brendan?”

  Joshua gritted his teeth. “Yeah.”

  Joshua’s bluntness did not go unnoticed.

  A look of deep curiosity was in David’s eyes. “What makes you say that?”

  “There’s just something really sleazy about him,” Joshua replied. “There always has been.”

  David tried his best not to look discouraged. “I hope you have a little more to give us than that. Murder investigations require things like proof.”

  Joshua grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’ve just always had a bad feeling about him.”

  David exhaled. “I’m afraid we’re going to need more than that.”

  Joshua threw his arms out. “I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s just not a good dude.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

  Joshua tensed up. “Where did that come from?”

  “It’s clear that you don’t have any problem badmouthing him, but does he share the same animosity for you?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Joshua replied.

  “We will. I just want to hear your answer. Has he ever said anything derogatory about you?”

  Joshua averted his eyes. “No, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t sleazy.”

  I stared him down, watching closely a
s Joshua became increasingly more uncomfortable.

  “How about you, Joshua?” I said. “Did you have any big plans last night?”

  “I was painting in my studio.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Third Street.”

  “Until what time?”

  “I don’t know,” Joshua replied.

  “Can you be a little more specific?” David asked.

  Joshua shot David a glare. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I don’t appreciate you throwing all of these questions at me like this is some kind of interrogation.”

  David stared him down. “If you’d just answer me honestly, I wouldn’t have to ask you so many questions. Now, what time did you leave your studio?”

  Joshua shrugged. “I don’t know. Around nine-thirty. Maybe ten o’clock.”

  “Which is it?”

  “I don’t know, man. I wasn’t paying close attention to the time.”

  “Where did you go after you left your studio?” I asked.

  “I went home,” Joshua replied.

  “Alone?” I said.

  Joshua’s voice cracked as he replied, “I really don’t like where this is going.”

  “Why? Because you were alone?” I asked.

  “Are you trying to accuse me of murder?” Joshua barked.

  I shook my head. “No. The detective and I just want to know if you went home alone after leaving your studio.”

  Joshua lost control of his temper. “I already told you that Brendan is the sleazy one.”

  David folded his arms. “You also told us that you didn’t have any actual proof. Now, since you’ve refused to provide us with a straight answer, it’s safe to assume that you did go home alone, which means you have no one to verify your alibi for the time of the murder.”

  Joshua snarled. “You are accusing me of killing my mother?”

  David shook his head. “No. I’m just pointing out that your alibi is shaky. Even more, you have a clear motive.”

  Joshua’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We found your mother’s will. You stand to inherit half of all of her assets.”

  Joshua scoffed. “You think I’d kill her for money?”

  “Well, there is no bigger motive for murder—”

  Joshua shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t kill her for a little bit of cash.”

  “It’s more than a little.” David looked around. “A house this size in a neighborhood like this could easily sell for half a million dollars.”

  “Not to mention the money in your mother’s savings account,” I said.

  “We found one of your mother’s recent bank statements. It turns out that reading people’s palms is much more profitable than I ever thought,” David replied.

  “Luckily for you, your mother was big on saving,” I said.

  Joshua’s eyes widened. “That’s all news to me.”

  David narrowed his eyes. “Is it? Or is that just what you want us to believe?”

  “I already told you. I didn’t kill my mother,” Joshua replied.

  It was hard not to let frustration set in. David and I weren’t getting anywhere. Luckily, there was still another avenue to explore.

  “Josh, do you play baseball?” I asked.

  Joshua scoffed. “Do I look like I play baseball?

  David folded his arms. “Just answer the question.”

  Joshua shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He ran his fingers through his long hair. “Now, are we done here? I have some grieving to do.”

  David stared deep into his eyes then nodded. “Yeah, we’re done—for now. But don’t go planning any out-of-town trips.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A deeply troubled look was in Brendan Ridley’s eyes as he stared out into the distance. He seemed to have mustered just enough restraint to keep tears from streaming down his face. Normally, my heart would have gone out to him. As I had learned from previous investigations, a murder suspect’s emotions could rarely be taken at face value.

  “I can’t believe she’s dead,” Brendan Ridley said.

  David gave him a sympathetic look. “Mr. Ridley, I know it’s a rough time for you, but I need to ask you some questions.”

  Brendan let out a sigh. “Of course.”

  David pulled out a small pad of paper to scribble notes on. “How was your relationship with Ms. Baxter?”

  “Great,” Brendan replied.

  “So you two weren’t having any problems?”

  Brendan shook his head.

  “When was the last time you talked to Terri?” David asked.

  “Yesterday afternoon.”

  “Did you see her in person?”

  Brendan nodded. “I stopped in at her place briefly.”

  “And?”

  “And we talked for a few minutes before a customer came in to get a palm reading.”

  “What did you talk about?” David asked.

  “Just the usual stuff. How our days were going. That sort of thing,” Brendan replied.

  “According to her, how was her day going?”

  “Fine.”

  “So she wasn’t in a bad mood?” David said.

  Brendan shook his head.

  “And she didn’t complain about anyone or express any concerns to you?” David asked.

  “No,” Brendan replied.

  David wrote a few brief notes on his pad then resumed eye contact. “Mr. Ridley, where were you last night between ten and eleven o’clock?”

  Brendan’s eyes widened. “Why are you asking me that?”

  David stared intently at him. “Why don’t you just answer the question?”

  Brendan eyebrows arched. “Wait, you don’t think I—?”

  David held his hand out. “This is all just standard procedure. If I didn’t ask you, I wouldn’t be doing my job.”

  Brendan took a deep breath. “Right.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. When the silence dragged on a few moments longer, I spoke up. “So where were you?”

  “I was at home watching basketball,” Brendan replied.

  “You a Komodo Dragon fan?” David asked.

  Brendan nodded. “A diehard Dragon fan.”

  “So am I,” David said. “We’re having a real comeback year.”

  Brendan smiled. “We sure are.”

  “So did you have some of your friends over to watch the game?”

  Brendan shook his head. “No. It was just me.”

  “What did you do when the game ended?”

  “I went to bed,” Brendan replied. “Why?”

  “As nice as it is to be talking to a fellow Dragon fan, there’s a problem with your story.”

  Brendan’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “The game ended shortly after nine-thirty, and Terri was killed between ten and eleven o’clock. Since you told us that you were alone last night, it means you have no one to confirm your true whereabouts during the time of the murder,” David said.

  “Between ten and eleven, I was asleep,” Brendan replied.

  “So you say.”

  An exasperated look came over Brendan’s face. “You’re coming at this all wrong. I already told you that I didn’t have reason to want Terri dead. Everything was going great between us.”

  I stared long and hard into his eyes. “It still doesn’t change the fact that you have no one to verify your alibi for the time of the murder.”

  Brendan groaned. “I wish that I had been with Terri at the time. Maybe then I could have prevented her murder from occurring.”

  “Or you could have been killed yourself,” I said.

  Brendan looked down at the ground. “I suppose you’re right. I still can’t believe she’s really gone. She will be dearly missed.”

  I paid close attention to Brendan’s body language, looking for any gestures or mannerisms that were inconsistent with the sadness that he had expressed. Upon closer ins
pection, I saw no signs of insincerity.

  “We’ve already established that you’re a basketball fan. How about baseball?” David asked.

  Brendan shrugged. “What about it?”

  “You like baseball?”

  Brendan shook his head. “It’s not my thing.”

  “Oh really?”

  “It’s a really slow game.”

  “To watch or to play?”

  “Both.”

  “So you don’t play in a league at all?” David asked.

  “Why are you asking me this?” Brendan replied.

  “I’m just curious.”

  “No. I don’t play baseball.”

  David scribbled another note on his pad of paper. “Mr. Ridley, can you think of anyone who might have wanted your girlfriend dead?”

  Brendan’s eyes lit up. “Yes.”

  David appeared surprised at how quickly Brendan had responded.

  “Who?” David asked.

  “My ex, Lyndy Thompson,” Brendan said.

  “You mean Miss Lyndy, the psychic?” I replied.

  Brendan nodded.

  “So you went from dating one psychic to another?” I asked.

  Brendan chuckled. “I know. What are the odds, right?”

  The corners of my mouth turned up. “I guess it’s safe to say that you have a type when it comes to women.”

  “I don’t know about that. I just kind of happened to fall for two psychics back to back. I definitely didn’t plan it that way,” Brendan said.

  David stared intently at Brendan. “Back to your ex for a moment. What makes you think that Lyndy wanted Terri dead?”

  “Lyndy has a very obsessive personality. She couldn’t believe that I broke up with her,” Brendan said.

  David scrunched his nose. “If that’s the case, then why didn’t Lyndy come after you?”

  “Because Lyndy desperately wanted me back. In Lyndy’s mind, Terri was the only thing that stood between me and her becoming a couple again.”

  “Is there any truth to that?” David asked.

  Brendan shook his head. “That’s the crazy thing. I didn’t want Lyndy back. Like I told you, Terri and I were very happy together.”

  My face contorted. “But if Lyndy was psychic, shouldn’t she have seen your breakup coming? Not to mention realized that you had no intention of ever taking her back?”