Powdered Grape & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 29

by Susan Gillard

  “We tried tracing the credit card that he used,” Ryan explained. “But it seems to lead back to a shell company. I have a colleague who has had some luck tracing these sort of trails, mostly in regards to narcotics. I asked him to look into this for me, and he said he would call me this afternoon.”

  “Maybe having this picture will help too,” said Peters.

  They discussed the man’s possible motives for the murder for a little while, but it was difficult to determine anything without knowing more about him. When Ryan received a call, they all hoped it was his colleague with an answer. After the greeting they heard, the other investigators realized this was the call they were waiting for.

  “Do you have any leads on Don Dover from Dover?” Ryan asked.

  “It seems like this guy didn’t put too much effort into his backstory if he used the word Dover twice,” Amy mused.

  “It still kept the police searching a while,” said Heather.

  When Ryan finished the call, he turned the other investigators to update them.

  “I think he was able to track down who the card really belongs to,” Ryan said. “It’s a John Springer.”

  “From Dover?” asked Amy.

  “From Jacksonville,” said Ryan.

  “That’s a bit of a hike,” Peters said.

  “Is there a way if we can see if he’s still in town?” asked Heather.

  “I bet we could trace the card again and see if there have been new purchases,” said Ryan.

  Heather nodded. She wanted to track down this promising lead, but she would rather not have to drive ten hours to find him.

  They found John Springer at a hotel on the other side of the island called Laverne’s Lighthouse Inn. After tracking the card to this inn, the investigators waited outside.

  “Look,” Heather said, gesturing to a man on the porch. “He looks just like Amy’s picture except he has glasses instead of a mustache.”

  “Maybe I am pretty good at sketching too,” Amy said with a smile.

  “Let’s go talk to him,” Ryan said, leading the way.

  The four investigators walked onto the porch. The man looked up from his cup of tea in surprise.

  “John Springer?” Ryan asked.

  “No, no,” he said “There must be a mistake. My name is Charles Princeton.”

  “From Princeton?” asked Amy.

  “Yes. That just happens to be so.”

  Ryan showed his badge and asked again, “John Springer?”

  Charles/John set down his cup. “Oh, dear. What’s going on?”

  “Do you mind telling us why you’re checking into hotels under false names?” asked Ryan.

  “I wish Laverne didn’t have to learn this,” he said. “But there’s nothing untoward about what I’m doing. This is my job. I’m a hotel reviewer. I work out of our office in Jacksonville, but I get to go on the road as well. I’m making reviews of hotels in Key West during the busy spring break season. To see how each one deals with the crowds.”

  “We’ll need the name of your office to verify this,” Ryan said.

  “And why didn’t you stay at the Seaview Hotel until after the police spoke to you?” Heather said.

  “I know it was tragic, but I couldn’t see what that young woman’s death had to do with me. I assumed that I wouldn’t be able to write about the place accurately because of what happened, so I wanted to squeeze another inn into my tour. Luckily, this place had a last-minute cancellation.”

  “You might not have thought that you had anything to do with the death, but your disappearance made the police think otherwise,” said Heather.

  “Especially since you wear disguises,” said Amy. “You were acting a bit like a spy.”

  “They wasted time and resources tracking you down,” said Heather.

  “I’m very sorry,” John said. “I didn’t think of it that way. I was thinking about my job and not that I could cause confusion. I try to let people know the truth about places with my reviews. I didn’t want to obscure the truth about a death.”

  “What did you think of the Seaview Hotel as a reviewer?” Heather asked.

  John settled back into his chair to gather his thought. He spoke officially. “In many ways, it is reminiscent of the Seaside Inn that I stayed at last year. Even the décor is remarkably similar. The Seaview Hotel, however, is somewhat more haphazardly run. There’s nothing fatally wrong with it... Oh, please excuse me. I meant that as a guest. I wasn’t referring to the death.”

  “Please continue,” said Ryan.

  “There’s nothing that would make you dismiss the hotel immediately. But breakfast seemed to be forgotten about one day, except for some lackluster granola bars. If you had a complaint, it took a little while to be resolved, as if they were deciding how to handle the situation on the spot. The owner seems friendly but disorganized. However, she is willing to match basically any deal, so you can’t begrudge the establishment too much. I’m not quite sure how the death plays into all of this.”

  “You seem like you have a keen eye for detail,” Heather said, flattering him.

  “It is my job,” he said.

  “Did you notice anything unusual that would help us figure out who pushed the victim?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know anything for certain,” he said. “There was one man with glasses who was having an unpleasant time.”

  “Must be Rick Connors,” said Amy.

  “He complained about the music coming from the room of the girl who died loudly. However, I also heard him discussing other hotel arrangements.”

  “He was considering changing hotels before the death?” Heather asked.

  Two possibilities sprang to her mind. One was that Rick Connors was planning on changing hotels because he wanted to get away from the other tourists he found annoying. The other possibility was that he was planning to make a getaway from a murder he planned to commit.

  Reservations

  The investigators arrived at the Seaside Inn, and Claudette greeted them. Today she was wearing a gray suit jacket over a floral blouse with black slacks. She smiled warmly.

  “Your assortment of donuts have been a roaring success,” she said. “We might have to continue this arrangement after spring break.”

  “I’d be happy to discuss that,” Heather said. “But we’re actually here on another matter.”

  “What is it?” Claudette asked.

  “We’re helping the police with a murder investigation,” Heather replied. “And we need to talk to one of your guests.”

  “You’re welcome to talk to anyone you need to,” Claudette said. “However, I can’t force anyone to speak with you. A hotel takes the place of someone’s home, and they need to feel safe there. I also can’t share any guest’s records with you without a warrant. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “I guess I like when Toni was improper then,” muttered Amy.

  “We’re not one hundred percent certain that the guest came here,” said Heather. “But it makes sense that he would.”

  “Because I run the best inn on the island?” Claudette asked with a smile. “We do have a sign in book on the counter. That’s something that is in plain sight. It doesn’t have credit card numbers, but guests can list if they’re here on a special occasion. There’s no expectation of privacy there.”

  They looked at the book and focused on that day’s check-ins.

  “Rick isn’t one to hold back anymore,” said Amy, pointing at what he wrote. “He’s on a honeymoon that’s not a honeymoon and escaping a bad hotel.”

  As if on cue, Rick Connors chose that moment to return to the hotel. He scowled when he saw Heather and Amy.

  “Are you following me?”

  “To an extent,” said Heather. “These officers have some more questions for you.”

  “Fine,” he said, groaning. “I guess we should go to my room. I don’t want to ruin the atmosphere of this place.”

  He led them down the hall and opened up his room door.<
br />
  “You didn’t feel like going to the top floor again?” Amy asked.

  “Can you blame me?” he countered.

  He led them inside and sat down in the chair. The investigators stood around him.

  “We’ve heard about the fight you had with the victim the night before she died,” Ryan said.

  “I already explained this to those P.I. ladies,” Rick said. “If they really are P.I.s.”

  “They are,” Ryan assured him.

  “Well, I already told them about my lousy trip. About how it was supposed to be a honeymoon, but I don’t have a wife now. Maybe this made me more short-tempered, but it didn’t make me a killer. I wouldn’t have killed anyone even if I was in the building. But I wasn’t there. I was at the museum.”

  “We’ll have to see if anyone there remembers you,” Ryan said.

  “Why would they?” Rick asked. “I’m a sad man in paradise just looking for a distraction.”

  “Well, maybe that’s why they will remember you,” said Amy.

  “Last time we asked you, you said that you didn’t want to show us your black articles of clothing because they were all packed up,” said Heather. “Now that you’ve changed hotels, could we see them?”

  “I’m afraid I burned my tuxedo at a beach bonfire last night,” Rick said, looking down.

  “Do you realize how suspicious that sounds?” Amya sked.

  “I wasn't thinking about how you said something black in an outfit might be related to the death,” he said. “I was thinking about how angry I was about my wedding and how I never wanted to see that tux again. The fire seemed like a good way to get rid of it.”

  Ryan and Peters asked a few more questions about his fight with Teresa Ray and her roommates, but they didn’t gain any additional information.

  “I really didn’t have anything to do with this,” Rick said. “You can check at the museum. I’m already having a terrible trip. Can you stop accusing me of murdering someone I barely knew?”

  Heather was starting to feel sorry for him. If he wasn’t the killer, then he was going through a lot.

  “Just one more question,” she said. “Why did you decide to go to the Seaview Hotel for your trip?”

  “Thank you for not saying honeymoon,” he said. “We were actually looking at coming here to the Seaside Inn first. But when my fiancé called both places to compare honeymoon suites, the lady at the Seaview Hotel, Toni or Tomi or something like that – she said that she was running a special. And the honeymoon suite would be fifty dollars a night less there.”

  “I guess that’s a good reason,” said Amy.

  “I didn’t know this Teresa person before coming here. And I didn’t kill her. Can this interrogation be over?”

  The investigators agreed but reminded him not to leave town. As Heather left the Seaside Inn, she felt like she was missing something. She just couldn’t tell what it was.

  Competition

  Heather tossed and turned in her sleep that night. She didn’t always have nightmares form her cases, but this one was bothering. She felt like she was very close to solving it if she could just unravel the clues that she had already uncovered.

  Teresa Ray knew so few people on the island. This thought kept echoing in her mind. How could she have done something to warrant murdering her? There had to be something that Heather was missing. Was it one of her friends that killed Teresa? If so, why push her off of the balcony? It brought a lot of attention to the murder.

  Heather sat upright in bed as a thought occurred to her. It made sense. She just might have cracked the case. Now she just needed to wait a few more hours until everyone was up to prove it.

  “I don’t understand,” Toni said. “Why would this have anything to do with her death?”

  “Please, indulge me,” Heather said.

  Toni looked at the four investigators who were gathered in her office again.

  “All right,” she said. “I took over this hotel a little after Claw took over hers.”

  “That’s Claudette Thompson?” Peters asked for clarification.

  Toni nodded. “She’s been like a mentor to me. All my success at this hotel is because of her. Luckily, it’s busy enough here that both of our businesses can survive. I was inspired by her décor for this place. You saw that she helped me with my breakfast problem. And I learned to make deals with customers based on her deals.”

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Ryan.

  “When I was first starting out, it was during the slow season. Claw was doing a half off during the week deal. I thought it was genius. I decided to sixty percent off, and I did great. I’ve been inspired by her deals often.”

  “You offered a better price to the Brooms when they called about a room,” said Heather. “And a better price on a honeymoon suite to Rick Connors.”

  “That’s right,” said Toni. “Because Claw is my judge for what a good price is, and I wanted some business.”

  “That’s also why you had the adjoining room special,” said Heather.

  “Right,” said Toni. “I actually gave them this special deal right before they checked in at the Seaside Inn. I spoke to them in the parking lot and convinced them to come to my hotel instead. They were about to bring their bags inside, but then carried them over to me instead.”

  “So, you stole Claudette’s customers right in front of her door?” asked Amy.

  “It sounds bad when you put it like that, but that’s not really how it was. I gained some customers using my special deal. But Claudette could find someone else to fill her room at the full price. She’s better at that than me. So, we’d both win.”

  “So, you believed that she would find someone else to fill her room even though it was the day of check-in?” asked Heather.

  “Sure,” Toni said. “This has happened before. It’s never been a problem.”

  “Maybe it has,” Heather said, looking at her fellow investigators.

  “What do you mean?” Toni asked, losing some confidence in her voice as she spoke. “You think there was a problem?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Claudette said. “Why would I have anything to do with a death at someone else’s hotel? And I don’t even have a black jacket.”

  Ryan and Peters were fulfilling a search warrant that allowed them to search Claudette’s home for clothes matching what was found in Teresa Ray’s hand.

  “I imagine you don’t have one anymore,” Heather said. “Once you realized it was torn when you pushed Teresa Ray off of the balcony, you must have gotten rid of it to hide the evidence. However, this meant that your outfits weren’t as perfectly matched as when we first met you.”

  “Yeah. You like the picture-perfect look,” said Amy. “Your jacket normally even matches your shoes.”

  “And when we came to talk to Rick Connors about the murder, you were wearing black pants and a gray suit jacket,” said Heather. “That’s not your usual matching suit set.”

  “You can’t be perfect every single day,” Claudette said. “And it sounds like if I did get rid of that jacket, then you really wouldn’t have a case against me.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” said Heather. “Not everyone washes their suit jacket and pants the same amount of times. But I have a feeling that you are one of the people who do. You don’t want one part of the outfit to appear more faded than the other.”

  “So?”

  “So, that means that your pants will have been treated with the same cleaning chemical makeup as the jacket. We can make a match to what was found on the victim.”

  Claudette seemed to deflate but remained silent. Peters returned with a black pair of suit pants in an evidence bag. Ryan read Claudette Thompson her rights and began to lead her away.

  “Good luck in court, Claw,” said Amy.

  “Don’t call me that!” Claudette yelled. “I hate being called that. Toni was infuriating in every way. She stole my ideas, and she stole my business. And she thought we were friends! How can y
ou be friends with someone like that? I saw her stealing my customers from my doorway that day, and I decided it was the last straw. I was going to do something. I would sneak into her hotel without her noticing me and try to come up with a plan. When I saw the woman who had left my hotel without even a courtesy call to cancel her reservation with me and go to my enemy, I saw my chance. I pushed her, knowing it would hurt Toni’s business and customers would flock to me.”

  “You killed an innocent woman to hurt someone’s business,” said Heather.

  “Toni deserved it,” Claudette said. “She’s been driving me crazy for years. Calling me her mentor while undermining my business. And all the time turning my beautiful name into a crab’s hand – calling me Claw.”

  Ryan and Peters escorted Claudette away. Heather and Amy looked at one another.

  “I’m glad you decided to call her Claw,” said Heather.

  “I wish I could annoy every suspect into a confession,” Amy joked. “Hey, maybe I can do that with Jamie.”

  Josh

  Heather and Amy headed to Amy’s house, eager to tell Jamie about the case they had just solved. Amy was also hoping to convince Jamie to admit that Josh was in town.

  She didn’t need to convince him because Josh was in her living room when they arrived. Amy smiled at Heather.

  “I guess I’ve been pretty lucky about getting confessions today,” Amy whispered to her friend. “Maybe I’ll be rewarded with a ring.”

  “Hi, Amy,” Josh said. “Heather.”

  Amy gave him a hug, and Heather shook his hand. Then, they all headed into the living room and took a seat. Miss Marshmallow grudgingly moved so that the humans could fit on the couch.

  “I had a feeling you were in town,” Amy said. “I thought I saw you at one point.”

  Josh laughed. “I should have realized that we couldn’t keep a secret from you. You are both great investigators. Not that I’m against that. It did get me out of a scrape before.”

  “We shouldn’t have kept it a secret,” Jamie agreed. “We can’t get anything past them.”