Betsy smiled. “There’s something I can never hear often enough. Keep the compliments coming.”
I laughed.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Just as she had intended to, my grandmother was able to cheer me up. At least for the night. When morning came, my mind was still saddled with the same unanswered questions. Not to mention, a trip to the gym was now in order to burn off the calories in those truffles.
It turned out that I would never make it to the gym that morning. As I was getting dressed in my workout clothes, I got a call from my boyfriend that threw my entire plans upside down.
“Hello,” I said into the phone.
“You won’t believe what just happened,” David replied.
So much for pleasantries. David clearly wanted to get straight to the point.
“What happened?” I asked.
His answer made my jaw drop.
***
When I got off the phone with David, I immediately headed over to Rick Lutz’s house on Oakmont Lane.
As I arrived, it looked like the entire police department was there. Various deputies and members of the forensics team were everywhere I looked. I parked on the street in front of Rick’s house and approached David, who waited for me at the base of the driveway.
My boyfriend escorted me to the living room of the house, where Rick’s corpse was hanging from the ceiling. A noose was around his neck. A wooden chair was positioned on the floor directly behind where Rick’s body was hanging.
I winced and turned my head away the moment I spotted the corpse. What an awful sight.
David put his hand on my shoulder. “I know. It’s pretty disturbing.”
My eyes widened. “This is crazy. I can’t believe he killed himself.”
David picked up an evidence bag that was on a nearby coffee table. Inside was a piece of paper. “According to this suicide note, the guilt he felt over murdering Terri became too much for him to live with.”
My forehead wrinkled. “But we just talked to Rick a few days ago. He didn’t seem the least bit suicidal.”
“A lot can change in a couple of days.”
I read the note, including the murder confession. But it wasn’t the contents of the note that stood out to me as much as the fact that the letter wasn’t handwritten. Instead, it was printed out, like it had been typed on a computer.
“This is so odd. Who types out a suicide note?” I asked.
“Very few people,” David said.
“So this isn’t completely unheard of, then?”
“Most of the time, there isn’t a note at all. When the deceased does leave a note, it tends to be handwritten, but I have seen the occasional typed suicide note.”
I scrunched my nose as I looked at the note again. “Has the forensics team pulled any prints from the letter?”
“Now that you mention it, no.”
“That’s curious,” I said.
David nodded. “It is.”
I bit the corner of my lip. “By the way, how did you guys know to come over here in the first place?”
“The 9-1-1 operator got a call about an hour ago. Apparently, the caller was taking a jog on the street and spotted Rick’s body through the front window.”
“Did this caller identify themselves?”
David shook his head. “No. They wanted to stay anonymous.”
“Why would they want to stay anonymous?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Have your men been able to trace the number?”
David shook his head. “Apparently, the call came from a blocked number.”
I scoffed. “Of course it did.” I took a deep breath. “There are a lot of strange things going on here.”
“That’s what I have been thinking.”
“Do you think this really was a suicide?” I asked.
“Right now, I don’t know what to think.”
I grimaced. “My gut is telling me this wasn’t a suicide.”
“Is your gut telling you anything else?”
I shook my head. “Not at the moment. By the way, has the forensics team found anything else that may be of use?”
“Not yet, but they are still looking.”
I took a seat on a nearby couch to let everything I had just heard sink in. My eyes scanned the room—starting with the ceiling, then the walls, and finally the floor.
That was when I spotted something. On the ground, just beside the wooden front foot of the couch I was sitting on, I saw a small red plastic triangular-shaped object. I stared intently at it, so much so that I drew David’s curiosity.
“What are you looking at?” David asked.
I grabbed a tissue from my purse, bent over, grabbed the object, and held it up. “This.”
“Is that—?”
“It’s a guitar pick.” My forehead wrinkled. “That’s strange. Rick Lutz never mentioned being a guitar player.”
“That’s because I don’t think he was,” David replied. “I’ve been in every room of this house. There’s no sign of a guitar anywhere.”
My eyes widened. “I know someone who does play guitar, though.”
A smile came to David’s face. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”
“You should get this guitar pick to the lab. I have a feeling that this case is about to be blown wide open,” I said.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
David immediately sent the guitar pick over to the crime lab. The next day, when he got the results back, my suspicions were confirmed.
David swung by my house and picked me up, then we drove over to Ridley’s Guitar Warehouse.
When Brendan spotted David and me, he looked none too pleased to see us. He rushed toward us, clearly wanting us to leave his store. That wasn’t going to happen.
Although it didn’t mean Brendan wasn’t going to try. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk to you,” David said.
“I’m busy.”
“Make time.”
“I’m trying to run a business here,” Brendan replied.
“That’s going to be a lot harder to do now.”
“Not if you get out of here. I don’t have anything to say to you, anyway.”
“Fine. I’ll do all the talking,” David said.
Brendan folded his arms. “I don’t have to listen to you.”
“That’s not true.”
Brendan narrowed his eyes. “You have nothing on me.”
I stepped forward. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Brendan’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”
“You got sloppy,” I replied.
Brendan threw his arms out. “You’re just making stuff up now.”
I pulled an evidence bag out of my purse. The guitar pick I had found at Rick Lutz’s house was inside the bag.
“You were saying,” I replied.
Brendan stared at the bag.
“Recognize this?” I asked.
“It’s a guitar pick.”
“It’s not just any guitar pick. This one is yours.”
Brendan scoffed. “There are millions of guitar picks in the world. What makes you think that one is mine?”
“Because it had your fingerprint on it.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with anything. You found one of my guitar picks. So what?”
“This guitar pick is more important than you seem to realize.”
“Why?”
“Because it was found at Rick Lutz’s house, a few feet away from his dead body.”
Brendan shook his head vehemently. “No. That has to be a mistake. I don’t know how it got there.”
“Brendan, how stupid do you think we are? We know you killed him.”
“But the news report last night said that he killed himself.”
“No,” I said. “His death was just staged to look like a suicide. You wanted us to believe that he took his own life. That way you could get a
way with murder. But like I said, you got sloppy, and now you’re going down.”
“No. I didn’t kill him. You’re crazy.”
David glared at Brendan. “I don’t want to hear another word from you unless it’s a confession. We’ve got you. There’s nowhere to run, and there’s nothing you can say to talk your way out of this.”
Brendan began breathing heavily. Even though he was sweating bullets, he didn’t confess to the murder.
I groaned. “You’re going to make us do this the hard way, aren’t you? Fine. You had it out for Terri ever since she left you. You were in absolute disbelief that she would end your relationship because of some crazy vision that she had. She broke your heart so deeply that it put you in a rage. You were a man scorned. But you got your revenge. Not only did you kill Terri, but you came up with a plan to frame Rick Lutz for the crime.”
Brendan seethed as he listened to my words. Despite his anger, he didn’t say a word.
I continued. “Knowing what a big baseball fan Rick was, you decided to use a bat as the murder weapon. That night, you went over to Terri’s house, killed her with the bat, made sure that you left no prints on the weapon, and left it at the scene, knowing we would suspect Rick of the crime. But that wasn’t all. You were so determined to frame Rick for the murder that you even forged a letter in Terri’s name and mailed it to the police station, singling Rick out as the presumptive killer. So after all the effort you put in, you were shocked when Rick wasn’t arrested, weren’t you?”
Brendan looked like he was ready to explode, but he somehow managed enough restraint to remain silent.
“After a few more days went by without Rick being arrested, you panicked,” I said. “You decided to try a new plan. You went over to Rick’s house, killed him, and carefully staged the crime scene to look like a suicide. You even typed up a suicide note instead of writing one out by hand so that we wouldn’t be able to match your handwriting to the letter that you sent to the police department. But you made one killer mistake—leaving the guitar pick behind. You were so focused on killing Rick that you probably didn’t realize that the pick had even fallen out of your pocket. But now it’s all over for you. Come on, Brendan. Admit it. You did it. You killed Terri Baxter and Rick Lutz, didn’t you?”
Brendan didn’t respond.
“Didn’t you?” I yelled.
Finally, Brendan couldn’t bottle up his rage anymore. He blew up at me. “Yeah, I did it! No one dumps me. No one! I gave that woman my heart. I loved her more than anyone I had ever loved before. And what did Terri do? She tossed me aside because of some crazy vision that she had. You don’t treat the love of your life like that.”
“If you really loved her, then you wouldn’t have killed her.”
Brendan shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right about that,” I said. “I don’t understand how twisted a person’s mind has to be to commit murder.”
David stared into Brendan’s eyes. “What about Rick?”
Brendan smirked. “What I did to that scumbag is easy to explain. As far as I’m concerned, I did the world a favor by killing Rick. He was only ever out for himself. The man acted like the world revolved around him. Not only was he the perfect person to frame, but he was so disliked by everyone that despite his innocence, no one would have been sad to see him go to jail for murder.”
“How about you? Do you think anyone will be sad to see you behind bars?” I asked.
Brendan lowered his head.
“I guess you’ll find out,” I said.
David handcuffed Brendan, read him his rights, and then loaded him into the back of his car.
Chapter Forty
David spent the rest of his day at the police station. Between booking Brendan on a double murder charge and filling out a mountain of paperwork, he had plenty to keep himself busy. My day went far differently. I spent my afternoon trying to calm myself down. Of course, I was grateful that justice would now be served. That didn’t change how traumatic this case had been.
By the time David arrived at my house that evening, I had gotten my emotions under control. As I opened my front door and saw a big smile on David’s face, I got the feeling that a joyful evening awaited us. I was ready to put this case squarely behind me, but David seemed to have a different take on the situation.
“There’s my super sleuth,” David said.
My nose wrinkled. “When did I earn that nickname?”
“You’ve always been super. Your extraordinary sleuthing abilities are the relatively new phenomenon.”
“You aren’t kidding. I have been surprising myself with some of the instincts I have been getting lately.”
“I know that I have been reticent to let you investigate these last two cases, but I have to admit—you’re a natural. Maybe you should join the force.”
I scoffed. “There’s no danger of that happening. If I ever see another dead body in real life again, it will be too soon.”
“I’m with you on that. I miss the days when the biggest cases I had to deal with were public intoxication or the occasional petty theft.”
“So do I. From now on, the only murders I want to see are the fictional TV variety that are solved by the end of the hour after plenty of pithy one-liners have been thrown around.”
He chuckled. “That would certainly be nice.”
“Can you make that happen?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not psychic, but I do predict that things will quiet down around here.”
“Don’t get me wrong. That would be fantastic. But what makes you so sure about that?”
“It’s just a hunch of mine.”
“In my short time of sleuthing, I have learned that hunches are rarely wrong.”
“So true.”
“Here’s hoping that you’re spot-on with that hunch.”
“While we’re waiting to find out, I have a second prediction for you,” David said.
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
He nodded. “And this one is definitely going to come true.”
“I’m all ears.”
He handed me a square box. “Celebratory donuts will be consumed.”
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” David asked. “This is serious business.”
“Look. I get it. Donuts are a staple in a detective’s life. But it’s dinnertime.”
“If life has taught me anything, it is that there’s never a bad time for donuts.”
“That’s funny. I could say the same thing about chocolate…and wine. Now there’s a killer combination for you.”
“Fine. If you don’t want the donuts, then that just leaves more for me.”
“They are all yours.”
David reached into the box and grabbed a donut. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
I chuckled. “Donuts for dinner. This sure has the makings of an interesting night.”
“It’s going to be more than just an interesting evening. We’re going to have a great night.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ll be spending it with you,” David said.
I blushed. “You’re so sweet.”
“What can I say? Brendan Ridley is a deadly reminder of what can happen when love goes horribly wrong. In turn, after wrapping up such an awful case, I can’t help but appreciate the fact that our love has gone so wonderfully right.”
“I know what you mean.”
“That’s why I don’t care what we do tonight—whether we hit the town or cuddle on the couch and watch TV,” David said. “All that matters to me is that we’ll be doing it together.”
I smiled. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
The End.
Apple Pie with a Side of Murder
Chapter One
“Here’s to peace and tranquility,” I said.
I held out a glass of white wine as I proposed a toast. My boyfriend and I had been so busy lately that our typical S
aturday date night had fallen by the wayside. Thankfully, we were renewing our tradition that evening. It felt good to be out on the town again. The fact that we were dining at Home Away From Home Cooking restaurant made for an especially delicious treat. The restaurant made a fish and chips plate that was simply to die for.
As I looked across the table at my boyfriend, I was as smitten with him as I had ever been. David Carlson was more than just a muscular twenty-eight-year-old man with soulful brown eyes, short black hair, and a handsome, square face. He was the love of my life.
He knew what made me tick. What made me swoon. And what made my mouth water. He also knew that comfort food was the way to my heart. Although, a nice glass of wine never hurt.
David held his glass out and pressed it gently against mine. “I’ll toast to that.”
It had been a few weeks since the last murder investigation had wrapped up. I had never been more eager to put something behind me. Getting my life back to normal was my priority.
“A quiet life is a happy life,” I said.
I had to admit, settling back in to a daily routine wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Sure, most mornings I got up, took my dog for a walk, headed off to work, then returned home and spent the evening either snuggling on the couch with David, or cozying up with a good book. On the surface, I was the same old Sabrina. But in truth, I was just going through the motions.
There was a great deal of turmoil inside me. What else could I expect when Treasure Cove had been rocked by three murders in the last three months? Change was clearly afoot in my once-sleepy hometown. Unfortunately, the only changes that seemed to be occurring were disturbing in nature. My mind was struggling to adapt to this new reality, all the while hoping that things would truly return to normal.
David’s heart was in the right place. He clearly believed that the road back to normalcy was paved with trips to familiar places. So far, his plan was working. I was calmer and happier than I had been in weeks.
David gazed at me. “To me, being with you is what makes for a happy life.”
Daley Buzz Cozy Mystery Boxed Set Page 31
