Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  Chapter Thirteen

  After striking out at Becky Campbell’s place, I was hoping to have better luck with the next suspect. Unfortunately, I’d kept tripping over unexpected stumbling blocks. With each stop that I made where I didn’t even get to talk to one the suspects, I lost precious time. Since the killer already had at least a fifteen-hour head start on me, any time I could make up was crucial.

  I prayed that luck would smile on me. Apparently, the universe had a tongue in cheek sense of humor, because what I got instead was a mischievous wink in return. I probably should have known better than to expect a tranquil scene to be waiting for me when I arrived at Celeste Cooper’s house, but as I pulled up, an all-out blitz of drama was unfolding before my eyes.

  It was a baby blue-colored bungalow with a dark gray tiled roof. Two stumpy palm trees stood in the sparsely landscaped yard. Celeste, Mark’s woman on the side, stood on the brick walkway trying to plead with her disgruntled husband, Ryan Cooper.

  In an uncanny fashion, like both Paige Richardson and Kristal Stanton, Celeste was a brunette in her forties with a full-figured body. If this was a Hollywood casting call, they’d all be competing for the same role. Instead, they’d unknowingly been vying for Mark’s heart, only to have theirs broken.

  Conversely, Ryan Cooper looked nothing like Mark Butler. He was nebbish and slight of build, a scrawny fortysomething accountant type with large-framed glasses and a short-sleeved buttoned down blue shirt with a thin black tie.

  While I philosophically disagreed with such morally abhorrent behavior as adultery, as an objective observer, I could see that in picking a muscular, charismatic man like Mark to have an affair with, Celeste had chosen a man who couldn’t share fewer similar traits with her husband.

  Ryan was planted squarely on the doorstep of the house, guarding the front door like his life depended on it. Even as I drove by on the street, the tension between them was palpable.

  Ryan appeared to be turning a deaf ear to his wife, not even yielding an inch, despite all her efforts to look contrite. There was a sizable amount of emotional energy being exerted, all to no avail. It was not an unreasonable assumption to believe that this all stemmed from Ryan finding out about his wife’s affair. Whether my hunch was spot-on was still yet to be determined.

  What was quite evident was that I’d stumbled upon a powder keg that could explode at any moment. My greatest concern was that if I intervened right now, perhaps it would do so in my face. That’s why I decided to watch the rest of the Coopers’ exchange unfurl from a distance, at least for the meantime.

  I overshot the house and parked on the sidewalk, watching as things quickly devolved. Part of me was still in a state of shock that something like this was occurring right in their front yard. Explosive encounters like this were a rare occurrence to begin with, but when they did crop up, it was usually behind closed doors.

  That this was taking place outside, in plain view of neighbors or anyone driving by, showed just how little awareness and concern they had for prying eyes. Their intense focus on either other worked to my advantage, and I planned to make the most of this opportunity. My only concern was that by parking a solid fifty feet away, I’d not only be well out of earshot but might miss something crucial. My fears were confirmed when I focused in and saw how expressive their body language was.

  There was no mistaking what was going on. Even more, I didn’t have to wait long until things completely unraveled. It was obvious that Ryan had reached his limit. He grabbed a moving box from the doorway and shoved it at Celeste, forcing her backward.

  Instead of responding with anger, she gave him her best hangdog face and made one last plea for his sympathy, but there was none to be found. He pointed at her car in the driveway and commanded her to leave.

  Defeated, she reluctantly complied, staggering slowly away from him. A few seconds later, she loaded the box into her car, then turned back to the doorway and gave him one last wistful look which he averted his gaze from. With great frustration, she then got in her car and pulled out of the driveway.

  I made a point to watch Ryan’s next move carefully. His reaction would either greatly complicate things for me or would simplify them. Once again, I turned to prayer quickly. Thankfully, this one was answered.

  Much to my relief, Ryan did not get in his own car and drive off to parts unknown. Instead, he turned around and headed back inside his bungalow. After breathing a substantial sigh of relief, I knew my next step.

  The choice was easy. If Ryan was going to head out, he probably would have gotten in his car right then and there. Since he went inside, it was a safe bet that he was staying put for a while. That allowed me to tail Celeste, fairly confident in the knowledge that Ryan would probably still be back at the bungalow when I returned to question him later.

  As for Celeste, she was hardly burning rubber. Her car was putting along as if she was making up her route as she went. That was fine by me. The more aimless she was, the better, especially since it gave me time to make up the distance between us.

  Despite the significant head start she’d gotten on me, her hesitation allowed me to pull to within a few car lengths of her by the time she reached the stop sign at Cove Road. I now had her right where I wanted her. What I was lacking was any clue what she was doing, especially when I saw her linger at the stop sign for an unnecessarily long time. Was she more rattled than I thought? Was she catching her breath? Or, was trouble afoot?

  It was in a sleuth’s best interest to anticipate every possible scenario when it came to suspects. During times like this, I saw nothing wrong with a little paranoia. This curious behavior of Celeste’s put me on edge. A worst-case scenario popped into my head, and I couldn’t seem to shrug it off.

  Had Celeste seen me following her and become suspicious? Was she coming up with her next plan of attack? Was she going to get out of her car and confront me? Or, was this something else entirely?

  Finally, as my nerves began to fray, I heard the sound of a car horn honking. It was coming from a beige sedan across the street. The horn got more than my attention. Celeste put on her right blinker and turned onto Sunny Breeze Avenue, which led to Old Town.

  It looked like my paranoia might have gotten the better of me. As she made her way down the avenue and into Old Town, there was no indication that she knew I was following her. She didn’t try to make any last second turns to shake me or slow down to almost cause an accident. Instead, she kept driving, only now with a better sense of direction.

  I thought for sure that she’d stop somewhere in Old Town, but she didn’t slow down in the least, bypassing the boutiques and bistros that lined the recently revitalized historic district, in favor of heading out to a sleepy portion of shoreline that was far off the tourist track.

  She finally came to a stop after pulling to the side of the road at a very odd location. It was tucked out of the way. There was no beach access here, so no tourists were around. Instead, it was a rocky section of the shore with only small patches of sand dotted around. This was the domain of the water, the seagulls, and not much else. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks while the gulls squawked at each other.

  While there was no disputing how scenic it was here, it also seemed like an odd place to stop at random. My mind went into overdrive, wondering what she was doing here. There was no one else around, so that ruled out the possibility that she was meeting someone here. Briefly, if I were to assume she was the killer, I wondered if maybe she’d taken evidence here to bury or dispose of.

  It didn’t take me long to dismiss that idea. While this area was not heavily touristed, it was also far from isolated. If I were a killer and was attempting to get rid of incriminating evidence, my first choice would be to head out to the swamp. That was a no-brainer.

  My mind then pivoted. Maybe this had nothing to do with the case at all. It was a peaceful location. She was surrounded by only the sounds of nature without the busy noises of everyday life obtruding. It w
as a tranquil place where she could hear herself think. Perhaps that was why she came here after the fight with her husband. There was only one way to find out for sure.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Before I approached, I wanted to cover my tracks a little. If I pulled to the side of the road right behind her, it would be far too obvious that I’d been following her. Even in her emotionally ragged state, that would be a dead giveaway.

  What I did instead was overshoot her location, driving past her for a mile before making a U-turn and coming back the other way. As I returned to her position from the other side of the road, as expected, she was still parked there. Even better, she was looking out at the ocean, oblivious to the cars going by on the road.

  If that didn’t play into my hand enough, the forlorn expression on her face was a clincher. I crossed the road and parked behind her, armed with a plan that I was ready to put into action. Once I turned off the engine of my car, I approached her cautiously.

  As I reached her window, I saw that her mood had gone from bad to worse. She’d now broken into tears.

  I knocked lightly on the window to get her attention. Celeste was so caught up in her own thoughts that the presence of another person sneaking up on her made her nearly jump in her seat. It was a good thing she was wearing a seat belt, or she might have jumped straight through the roof.

  Her heart began palpitating as she got short of breath. She had just enough air in her lungs to lash out at me.

  “Who are you? What do you want? And why did you sneak up on me like that?”

  The questions came rapid fire, so in an effort to calm her down, I replied as calmly as a police negotiator trying to talk a suspect down from a ledge.

  “I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to.”

  She was already so emotionally fragile that the soft-glove approach seemed to be the only way. I wanted to try and earn her trust, and I couldn’t do that if I came on like a sledgehammer.

  Apparently, she wasn’t done chewing me out. “Well, you did. Who sneaks up on someone like that?”

  I gave her the most empathetic expression I could muster and made my play to win her over. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I came here because I’ve always loved the view.”

  “So have I.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found it to be a great place to collect my thoughts.”

  “Ditto.”

  “When I looked over, I happened to notice you crying. Naturally, my heart went out to you.”

  She bit the corner of her lip and glanced at me with troubled eyes.

  “I just wanted to come over and see if you’re ok.”

  She hesitated before answering, looking like she was scrambling to compose herself. “I’ll be fine.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second. Instead of calling her right out, I replied like a concerned stranger, hoping that would pay dividends. “If you want to talk about it—”

  She shut me down, clamping up at the exact time I needed her to let me in. “You’re a stranger,” she said. “What makes you think I’m going to open up to you?”

  I acted hypersensitive and pretended that my feelings were hurt by her snapping at me. “Look, I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you. That’s just who I am as a caring person. I’m sorry I asked.”

  I waited impatiently for her reaction, the conversation at a significant crossroad. Luckily, the heart on the sleeve approach worked out better than I even thought. She backtracked on her earlier statements, contrite as could be.

  “No, I’m sorry. You were just being nice. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a really bad day.”

  “I know how that goes. Guy problems?” I said.

  Her eyes got wide. She looked at me closely and suspiciously. “How did you know?”

  “Only guy problems could turn a woman upside down like this,” I said.

  She gave me a knowing look the minute I said the words. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. I’ve been there. I know what you’re going through.”

  She grimaced. “I’m not sure that you have.”

  “Try me,” I said.

  She shut me down again. “I’d rather not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I kind of want to be alone right now. I’m sure you understand.”

  Like that, she’d forced me into a corner.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t leave you alone,” I said.

  She furrowed her brow. “Why not?”

  I stared her down. “I know what happened between you and Mark Butler.”

  She was aghast, not to mention utterly confused. “How did you—”

  I cut her off and dug right to the heart of the issue. “That’s not important. What matters now is perception, reality, and how much overlap there is between the two.”

  She gave me a blank-faced stare. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Celeste. You can’t deny how bad things look for you. You were having an affair with Mark Butler, who was just found murdered. That puts you right at the top of the suspect list.”

  As expected, she was completely blindsided by the abrupt switch in my personality. She responded to my accusation with equal parts anger and confusion. “What are you, some kind of detective?”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  Her demeanor completely changed. She tightened up, as stiff as a corpse.

  “I’ve been tracking you, long enough to see you having an explosive argument with your husband. Or, should I say, your soon-to-be ex-husband?”

  She became highly defensive. “That argument wasn’t what it looked like.”

  I hit right back at her. “Really? Because it looked like a marriage on the verge of dissolving. Are you really going to tell me I was just seeing things?”

  She yielded some ground. “Ok, so we’re having some problems.”

  “Because your husband found out about your affair with Mark Butler?”

  She gritted her teeth but answered. “Yes.”

  “It’s been a tough couple of days for you. Your husband found out you were cheating on him with another man. Meanwhile, you found out Mark was dating another woman.”

  “I know where you’re going with this, but you have the wrong idea about me.”

  I cut right to the point. “Do I really? Why don’t you tell me where you were between eleven and midnight last evening?”

  She was slow to respond, trying to calculate the right words to use.

  I forced her hand. “It’s a simple question. Where were you last night? What’s the holdup? Just tell me, unless you have something to hide.”

  “I was with a friend, all right?”

  “What’s the name of this friend?” I said as I pulled out my phone. “And what’s their number?”

  She stiffened up. “You’re going to call them right now?”

  Celeste seemed far too surprised that I wanted to put in a simple call to her friend.

  “Of course. If you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

  It didn’t take long for her to revise her statement. “Fine. I was with my friend earlier in the night, then I went back to my motel room.”

  One question immediately sprang to my mind. “Motel?”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a key card from the Coastal Crest Motor Lodge, a place frequented by budget travelers that despite having the word “coastal” in the name, happened to be ten miles inland.

  “Here’s my key.”

  She held it up, then quickly tucked it back in her purse after I’d taken a brief look at it. In her mind, the motel key card acted as total validation of her story. In reality, it made a new question spring up in my mind.

  “Would you care to tell me why you were staying in a local motel in the first place?”

  The discomfort on her face was unmistakable.

  Before I had the chance to, she became comb
ative with me, dismissing my question with sarcasm. “It’s a free country, I can stay wherever I want.”

  Great—sass, just what I didn’t need right now.

  “Then why didn’t you stay at your house last night?” I said.

  When she instantly froze up, I knew that I had her hook and line. Now, I just had to find a way to sink her.

  I continued prodding, in hopes of forcing an answer out of her. “What’s the matter, did he kick you out?”

  Celeste didn’t even have to say “yes” aloud. She clearly wasn’t a poker player, because her squirmy body language gave the answer away immediately.

  “Is it because of the affair?” I said.

  She finally opened her mouth, only to shut it again quickly afterwards. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I fired back. “This isn’t about what you want. It’s about uncovering the truth. A man is dead, and I’m not going to rest until I find his killer.”

  Celeste became shorter than ever with me. “My marital problems have nothing to do with this case.”

  She wasn’t the only one who could be cross. I gave her a dose of attitude. “That’s what you’d like me to believe. The way I see it, your marital problems may have everything to do with this.”

  Celeste narrowed her eyes. “How dare you accuse me of murder?”

  “Are you saying you’re innocent?”

  She got haughty. “Of course I am.”

  “I’d like to believe that.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “There’s just one problem. You showed me your motel key card as evidence that you were at the motor lodge last night.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Unfortunately, you said you were alone at the motel, which means that you have no one to verify you were actually there at the time of the murder.”

  She clammed up again.

  I continued. “You could have killed Mark, then gone back to the motel.”

  Her eyes opened wide as a sense of panic entered her voice. “No. I was at the motel all night.”

  “Unfortunately, you have no way to prove that, and I have a hard time taking the word of a murder suspect at face value.”