Last Chance for Murder (Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by Estelle Richards

  “I hear you.” Carly drove a little more. “Want to go to the overlook?”

  “I can’t. I need to go feed the kittens in a bit. You want to come see them?”

  “I’d love to but I can’t. Toxoplasmosis is dangerous for preggos, so I’m supposed to avoid cats.”

  “But you have a cat.”

  “Well, it’s really the litter box I’m supposed to avoid, which, believe me, I’m taking full advantage of.”

  Lisa laughed. “I’m sure Gideon loves that.”

  “He’s a good sport about it. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better? I know this whole murder thing has to be wearing on you, and the thing with the house, and Dylan, and everything else.”

  “Thanks, I needed the reminder.”

  “Next time put a reminder in your phone; technology is a marvel.”

  “I’ll do that,” Lisa said with a laugh. “Can you drop me at my mom’s office?”

  “Sure.”

  Chapter 22

  The phone was ringing when Lisa walked into the real estate office. Tess was nowhere to be seen, and Penny’s and Brett’s doors were closed. Lisa shrugged and went over to the desk to answer the phone.

  “Baldwin-Chance Mountain Realty. How may I help you?”

  “Lisa, is that you?” It was her dad. Of course Lou recognized her voice.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Baby, are you ok?”

  “Not really, now that I know about you and Aunt Olivia.”

  “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”

  “That’s what you’re sorry about? Not sorry that you did it, just sorry about the way I found out?”

  “If you want to talk about it—”

  “No, I don’t.” She hung up the phone, then looked around like a guilty kid. She’d never hung up on her dad before. He’d always been the one she could talk to, the cool parent, the fun one.

  She slumped into the chair behind the reception desk. Everything about this day was bad. Everything in the world was bad. Badness all around. Except for the kittens. The kittens were good. And the Good Morning Muffins. Those were pretty good, too. She spun around on the chair. It would be good if she could get back into the Folly.

  She stopped spinning and looked at the pile of messages and notes on the desk. Tess wasn’t a very good receptionist, and the desk was a disorganized pile of messiness. Lisa looked at the mess again and wondered if it might contain an alternate contact number for Jim Johnson. She wanted to talk to Roland’s lawyer, and his cell went straight to voicemail every time.

  She dug through the messages and notes and papers and sticky notes, trying to straighten out the jumble a little as she went, and discarding empty gum and candy wrappers into the trash. She found a bunch of expense forms from Brett, mostly for client dinners at Nero’s. The older forms were marked credit, and the newer ones were marked cash. Lisa stacked those by date. She found over three months’ worth of market research and neighborhood comps for Moss Creek and the surrounding areas all the way into Flagstaff. Lisa tidied that into somewhat more comprehensible piles.

  She lifted the blotter, and a blizzard of phone message slips drifted out. She tidied them up and had a moment of gratitude that at least Tess filled out the slips with the date, the caller’s name and number, and who the message was for. Lisa sorted those into a pile for Penny and a pile for Brett. In Brett’s pile she found a message from Jim Johnson with a phone number other than his cell. A local phone number. She picked up the phone and called it.

  The phone rang twice, and then a sleepy voice answered. “Lucky Horseshoe Inn, how may I help you?”

  So the lawyer had been staying at the Lucky Horseshoe. “I’m calling for Jim Johnson,” she said.

  “Hold on a moment. Ok, yes, are you calling to arrange pickup for Mr. Johnson’s luggage?”

  “Sorry, what? No, I’m calling for Mr. Johnson. Can you ring his room for me?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, Mr. Johnson was supposed to check out three days ago. We’ve been holding his luggage in the office for him.”

  “Oh. Thank you anyway.”

  She hung up, confused. Where had Jim Johnson gone, and why had he left his luggage at the Lucky Horseshoe and turned off his cell phone? If she could just remember what kind of car he drove, maybe she could call Toby and get him to put out an APB. Or maybe not, but she could ask if it had been reported stolen or crashed.

  The front door opened and Penny and Brett walked in.

  “Tess, did the mortgage people call yet on the— Oh, Lisa, darling, hello. I thought you were Tess. Where is that girl?” Penny said.

  “No idea,” Lisa said, getting up from the desk and going around to give her mother a warm hug.

  Penny accepted the hug with a look of mild confusion.

  “Oh, quick question, do you know what kind of car Jim Johnson was driving? Some kind of rental,” Lisa said.

  Penny raised an eyebrow. “Jim Johnson?”

  Brett frowned. “The so-called Roland Comstock’s lawyer,” he said. “Why do you want to know about him?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach him about the paperwork, maybe find out more about Roland.”

  “You should stay away from him,” Brett said. “Let the police do their job.” He turned and went into his office, and closed the door.

  “That was weird,” Lisa said.

  “Men.” Penny waved her hand at his closed door as if it was a bad smell that would dissipate.

  Lisa hugged her mom again. “I just found out about Dad and Aunt Olivia. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe they’d do this to you.”

  Penny stiffened. “Oh, that.” She cleared her throat. “Bad enough for it to happen, but let’s not make it worse by talking it to death.”

  “Right.” Lisa dropped her arms to her side. Why would she think her mother would want to talk about it with her? “Well, I hope you’re doing ok.”

  Penny nodded.

  “Um, how’s the coffee service? Everyone happy with the order?” Lisa said, changing the subject.

  *

  Lisa walked into the gallery to make an order adjustment in the records. Penny wanted to add extra muffins on their busiest days so they had them on hand for clients.

  Olivia was still at her canvas.

  “I’m glad you came back. We should talk. Did your dad reach you?”

  Lisa held out her arm with her hand up in the Stop position. “No. I’m just here to put something in the order book.”

  Olivia put her brush down, followed Lisa to the back and stood over her as she entered the order adjustment.

  “Please, let’s just sit down and talk it out.”

  “I don’t want to talk it out,” Lisa said through gritted teeth.

  “But I do.”

  “I don’t think your preferences get to be the most important thing right now, ok?”

  “Are we still doing this business together or not? If not, I guess you can go load your shiny espresso machine in the trunk of your car.”

  Lisa folded her arms and glared at the older woman. “I’m not saying we’ll never talk. But not everything has to be on your timetable.”

  “You’re being impossible. Were you this stubborn as a child?”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go take care of some things. You can go back to painting a dog’s head on my dad.” She shuddered. “At least it’s not a nude.”

  Lisa walked out, Olivia on her heels.

  “It could be,” Olivia called after her. “Lou is in very good shape for a man of his age!”

  Lisa walked faster, glad her mother wasn’t hearing this public display. If there was anything Penny hated, it was a public scene.

  On the sidewalk in front of Nero’s, a different public scene was developing. Jake Peterman stood on the curb, red-faced and bug-eyed with anger. He waved his arms around as he spoke, gesturing at the pickup truck parked at the curb.

  Lisa looked again at the pickup truck. It was buffed to a
high shine, and had been painted a bright lipstick-pink.

  She got closer to the commotion and could hear what Peterman was saying to the short Hispanic man standing in front of him.

  “How could you think for a second that I would want a pink truck? Why didn’t you call to confirm? You’re going to have to do it over!”

  The other man shook his head. “You’ll need to let the paint dry completely before any changes are made.”

  “Am I expected to drive around in a pink truck until then? I’m not paying for this!”

  “You selected the color yourself when you signed the contract,” the other man said.

  “Obviously I wanted a different color! Red, not pink! Red!” screamed Peterman.

  The other man held his ground. “We’re happy to do another paint job for you, after you’ve settled the bill on the current job.”

  “You think you can show me up in public?” Peterman yelled, stepping closer to the smaller man.

  “You need to step back, sir,” his opponent said, subtly shifting his stance to a more defensive posture.

  “You’ll pay for this! I’ll see you run out of business! Run out of town! This isn’t over!” Peterman took off his cowboy hat and threw it on the ground in a fit of rage. “You can’t show me up in public like this! You hear me? I’m somebody in this town! You can’t treat me this way!”

  Lisa looked at Peterman’s face with its bulging eyes and bright red hue and wondered if he had felt like Roland Comstock showed him up in public, too. Maybe it would be worth looking into Jake Peterman again.

  Peterman looked like he would be busy with his public screaming match for a few more minutes, so Lisa jumped into her car and sped over to Peterman’s office. She went in and approached Peterman’s secretary, glad to find her alone.

  The secretary smiled when she saw Lisa. “Hey, it’s the muffin lady.”

  Lisa smiled back. “Good to see you again. How’s the order working out?”

  “Oh, it is great, just delicious. Of course, I might have to send you a bill for some bigger slacks pretty soon.”

  “If I had to pay for slacks for everyone those muffins get to, I’d go out of business,” Lisa said.

  The secretary laughed. “Maybe that’s an add-on business for you, new slacks.”

  “I know, right? Hey, can I ask you a question about your boss?” Lisa said.

  The secretary rolled her eyes at the mention of Jake Peterman, and Lisa remembered how he’d leaned over to micromanage her and stick his armpit in her face when she’d brought the samples over. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you keep his calendar for daytime only, or do you know about his evening plans, too?”

  “I keep the whole thing, right down to scheduling his dental appointments for him.”

  “Do you know where he was the night, um, the night Roland Comstock died?”

  “Hmm, let’s see.” She perused the calendar for a moment before pointing to the night in question. “He was supposed to have a hot date in Flagstaff with, let’s see, looks like either Candy or Sandy.”

  “Oh.” Lisa was disappointed. Peterman’s hot temper had made him seem like such a strong possibility.

  “But she cancelled on him at the last minute.” She grinned. “Oh, he was mad about that. Went storming around all over the office ranting about flakes. Gave me an earful about screening his dates better.”

  “Screening his dates? Like, he makes you deal with that, too?”

  “He literally has me manage his online dating profile.”

  “Ugh, what?”

  “I know. He seems to think it gives him an edge because of the feminine touch.”

  “Wow, classy.”

  The secretary laughed. “So classy. I sometimes wonder if I should go to confession about it, since I’m leading these poor women astray.”

  “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Lisa said, laughing. “I should get going, though. But I’m going to put an extra muffin in for you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 23

  The kittens, sated from another bottle of kitten milk, chased the string around the floor. Lisa dangled it above them, dragged it along the floor, even draped it over her pantleg to get them pawing at it and dancing around.

  “Little fluffballs,” she said. “My little Curly, Moe, and Larry.” She smiled. The names fit them, and seemed like they would be good names for advertising the kittens when it was time to find them permanent homes. Her smile faded a little. It was going to be hard to let the kittens go. But she was keeping the mama cat, who would also need a name. Plenty of time for that when she got to know her, though. Cats always seemed to suggest a name by their personalities.

  “Ow!” she said as sharp little claws poked into her leg. She disentangled Curly from her pantleg and set him back on the heating pad with its soft, fuzzy blanket.

  Watching the kittens play, she ran through Jake Peterman’s secretary’s words again. Peterman had been angry that night, flaked on by his date. He had been denied a real estate deal that had sounded important to him. Had he really been angry enough to kill?

  The puffy clouds that had been drifting across the sky all day were starting to be tinged with orange and pink when Lisa called Carly.

  “Carly? I need to talk to Gideon. Is he at home?”

  “No, he’s working. I think he said he’d be at the plumbing supply this afternoon.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why, are you back in business at the Folly?”

  Lisa groaned. “No, that’s still a giant mess. Everything is a giant mess. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait, come by my house tonight around eight.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Then you need to get it off your mind. What’s important enough to blow off your best friend?”

  “Fine, you win. See you tonight.” She hung up and jumped in the car.

  Lisa thought about her friend’s words as she drove to the plumbing supply store. She wanted to hole up at home and play with the kittens before going to bed early. But on the other hand, Carly might not have much time to hang out once the baby arrived.

  Gideon’s truck was parked in front of the plumbing supply along with an array of other work trucks. Lisa checked and didn’t see the shiny lipstick-pink truck in the lot. She went inside.

  The warehouse was chilly and lit with cold white light from LED bulbs. An array of pipes and fittings filled the industrial shelving that stretched nearly to the ceiling and all the way to the back wall.

  Gideon was standing with a group of men near the front where an old cash register sat on a gunmetal gray desk. He looked up and smiled when he saw her.

  “Hey, Lisa,” he called.

  The other men in the group nodded at her as she approached. Three of them, including Gideon, were mobile coffee clients.

  “Hey Gideon,” she said. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Sure, sure.” They walked a few feet away from the group.

  “Have you ever worked with Jake Peterman?” she said.

  Gideon grimaced. “A couple times. He was a bit of a slow payer. Something to look out for if you’re doing the coffee thing for him.”

  She nodded. “I got a deposit up front, but I’ll keep that in mind. But what I really want to know is, does he have a bad temper? Do you think he could be capable of, um, of murder?” She whispered the last bit, suddenly aware that the rest of the group had gone silent to eavesdrop.

  Gideon pushed his faded baseball cap back on his head. “Gee, Lisa, that’s a pretty heavy question. I mean, the guy’s a class-one jerk, that’s true, but a murderer?”

  One of the others came over to interject. “I don’t see it. Jake’s more of a blusterer. Likes to talk big, but push comes to shove, he’s not one to get his hands dirty.”

  “Yeah,” another fellow said with a chuckle. “He’s more of a lawsuit guy, likes to get the lawyers involved in the dumbest things. Ha, the other night we were down at the bar and he w
as complaining about some online dating chick that flaked on him and wondered if he could sue her.”

  Another guy chimed in, “Oh, that was good. He kept saying he shouldn’t even be there that night with us lowlifes.”

  “Gideon got a good one in. He said if Jake didn’t buy his round of drinks we were all going to sue,” said the first guy.

  Gideon laughed. “Jake does like to skip out on buying his round, but we had him that night.”

  Lisa chewed the inside of her lip, remembering Peterman’s secretary talking about his date flaking on him the night of the murder. “Do you remember what night that was?”

  They all thought for a second before Gideon confirmed her fear. It was the night of the murder. “I remember, I was a little hungover the next day when me and Carly went to the doctor and heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

  “Ok, thanks, guys,” Lisa said. “Um, if any of you want to sign up for mobile coffee service, I’ll just leave you some business cards.”

  Chapter 24

  After checking on the kittens and putting on a quick swipe of mascara, Lisa headed over to Carly’s house. She hoped Carly had some good mindless TV to watch. She needed to get her mind off this murder business. Maybe if she relaxed, she could get the concentration she needed to put the pieces together.

  She rang the doorbell, and a second later the front porch light came on. Carly opened the door. Lisa stepped inside and—

  “SURPRISE!”

  A whole room full of people yelled as all the lights in the house came on at once.

  Lisa rounded on Carly. “What is going on here?” she hissed.

  “Honey, you seemed so stressed out, and I’m so glad you’re back home, I just thought a little welcome home party was in order,” Carly said.

  Carly’s little house was packed with people. Lisa looked around at all the familiar faces. Her mother was there, Gideon, Brett, Nero, people she recognized from high school. In the corner, her dad held hands with Olivia. There were plates of food on the kitchen counter. Someone switched the music on, and a nineties dance song filled the living room.