Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  “There’s a reason the police department exists. It’s our job to protect and serve. It would be chaos if random people with grudges just decided to start exacting their own brand of revenge without recourse,” Joe explained.

  The chances were high that this was an isolated event. Joe didn’t think it was possible to be too cautious, as if frontier justice could soon be widespread in Hollywood. While I thought that was a ridiculous notion to entertain, I didn’t want to provoke my brother, especially when he was already so worked up.

  I remained silent as I processed the news of Walter’s murder. It was such a stunning turn of events that was so difficult to wrap my head around. For his acquittal and subsequent murder to come in such quick succession almost put me on emotional overload.

  I’d woken up still trying to make sense of the not-guilty verdict. Now a new set of emotions had swept in. This was all before I had a single cup of coffee in my system. One thing was certain—at least the grogginess I’d felt was no more.

  Joe interpreted my silence a completely different way. Instead of recognizing that I was trying to juggle too many things at once, he assumed that I was eager to jump into the fray.

  “I’m going to urge you to stay away from this case,” he said.

  I tried to tell him what was really going on in my mind. “I wasn’t even thinking about—”

  He didn’t want to listen. My brother wouldn’t even let me get a complete sentence out.

  “Really? So you’re honestly going to tell me that you weren’t planning on investigating this case?”

  “I wasn’t.”

  I could hear him scoff on the other end of the phone line.

  I’d heard enough. It was time to set him straight. “I was just thinking about how many crazy turns life has taken in the last twenty-four hours. The news has been coming fast and furious.”

  He was in disbelief. “So, you’re not going to investigate this?”

  “No. It’s all yours.”

  I could hear a mix of relief and confusion in his voice as he replied. “Wow.”

  I would have taken offense at how presumptuous my brother had been, but after all the cases I’d stuck my nose in, I’d built up a reputation whether I wanted one or not.

  It had gotten to the point where Joe was befuddled as to why I wasn’t chomping at the bit to play amateur sleuth again.

  “Why are you letting me have this one all to myself?”

  The answer to that question was simple. “Honestly, I don’t want anything to do with this case.”

  Joe became fascinated. “I’m sorry. I don’t get it.”

  I elaborated. “It’s going to sound harsh, but Walter got what he deserved.”

  My brother answered like a politician would. “I can understand how you’d feel that way.”

  “But you don’t?” I asked.

  Joe was more candid with me than he’d been in a long time. “Okay. On a personal level, I think the jury should have put him behind bars for the rest of his life. On a law-and-order level, I can’t have people taking the law into their own hands.”

  “I understand.”

  “On that note, I have to get to work.”

  Chapter Three

  Like that, Joe and I went our separate ways. My brother dug into the case, searching for any leads that could bring Walter’s killer to light. I spent the day trying to stay as far away from the case as possible. It was such an emotionally charged topic that I felt getting some distance was key.

  I wanted to talk about anything else but the murder. It was a safe assumption that visiting my boyfriend could provide some much-needed relief. I didn’t care what we talked about. Even discussing the weather wouldn’t bother me if it meant the murder case didn’t come up. Although, a little snuggling seemed like the best option of all.

  Life had other plans. Just when I thought I’d experienced enough surprises for one day, my boyfriend greeted me with another. The first words out of his mouth were about Walter Clayton’s death. Apparently, news traveled even faster in this town than I even realized.

  Naturally, he, like my brother, assumed that I’d be quick to take up sleuthing. So when I told Daniel I had no plans to investigate this case, he couldn’t believe it.

  “You’re really going to sit this out?” Daniel asked.

  Judging by the look on his face, you’d think I’d told him that I was going to start performing brain surgery in my spare time for kicks. What a strange world I was living in. Those closest to me used to urge me not to investigate murder cases. Both my brother and my boyfriend would beg me to stay away from crime scenes.

  Now the idea that I hadn’t just jumped into the fray and thrown caution to the wind left Daniel in a state of shock. It was crazy how the tables had turned in the last few months.

  That being said, things must have been far crazier for the Cambridges. Yesterday, they had to wrestle with the grim reality that their daughter’s killer was being set free. Now they’d be getting news that the killer had become a victim of murder himself.

  I had to stop my thoughts right there. I’d gone over to Daniel’s place vowing not to let this case creep into my thoughts, yet there it was. If I was going to get any relief, I’d have to switch my mind frame. First, I had to get my boyfriend to drop the subject.

  “I’m leaving this one to Joe. Now, can we talk about something else?” I asked.

  Apparently not.

  Daniel continued right along with his train of thought. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m relieved that you’ll be staying out of harm’s way. I always worry about you when you’re going toe to toe with murder suspects.”

  “Luckily, you have nothing to worry about this time.”

  I was hoping my comment would put an end to the sleuthing talk during our conversation. Instead, Daniel returned to the topic like he was a broken record.

  “At the same time, you’re so good at it. If it wasn’t for you, think about how many unsolved murder cases there would still be in this town,” Daniel said.

  He did have a point. It would have been easy to fall into the trap of doing some navel gazing, but I was determined to resist. Ultimately, my desire to change the subject was stronger than my interest in rehashing past moments of glory. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving this case to Joe.”

  Daniel saw the resolve on my face and relented. “Fair enough.”

  An awkward moment of silence followed, making it abundantly clear that Daniel only had Walter’s murder on his mind.

  I did not indulge his curiosity. At the same time, I didn’t have a whole lot else to add to the discussion. I’d come over here to unwind.

  The silence became a little too uncomfortable for Daniel. He got tired of waiting for me to break the silence and spoke up.

  “So, what do you want to talk about?”

  “I’d be happy to talk about anything else. And I mean, anything. Even if it’s hearing another alligator in the pool story.”

  The alligator-in-the-pool story was a very Floridian experience. It was also fairly common. Rarely did a month go by without a resident somewhere in the state waking up to find a scaly, prehistoric visitor doing laps in their pool.

  Alligator-in-the-pool stories were almost as common in Florida as bad acting audition stories were in Tinseltown. The fun was in hearing how embellished the size and ferocity of the alligator ended up being depending on who was telling the story. A six-foot gator who walked away without hurting a soul could be exaggerated to be a twelve-foot man-eating menace who almost took a man’s arm off depending on how creative the storyteller was with the truth.

  “I’m happy to report that my pool and life have been gator free,” Daniel said.

  Daniel didn’t bite on my bait in the least. Unfortunately, his tongue managed to find its way back to the case once again, even if it was in a slightly tangential fashion.

  “I ran into the Cambridges yesterday after I dropped you off,” he continued.

  Was he not listening
when I told him I wanted to talk about something other than the case? Regardless, the topic was on the table again, and I didn’t have the energy to steer it away. I gave up the fight and indulged him.

  “And?” I replied.

  “They were beside themselves. Apoplectic.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “My heart really went out to them. At the same time, I felt so helpless, yet also so outraged. That was just me as someone without any skin in the game. I could only imagine what was going on inside their heads,” he said.

  “You probably don’t even want to know. They were probably ready to storm that courthouse with pitchforks in hand,” I replied.

  “Pitchforks? People storm the gates a little differently these days.”

  “You get my point. I’ll bet there was a medieval kind of anger brewing in their minds.”

  “Then, in the span of a few hours, they went from worrying about their daughter’s killer wandering free on the streets to finding out he’s been murdered. Talk about emotional whiplash.”

  “True. But I’m sure that relief is sweet. I mean, they finally have the closure they’ve been looking for all this time,” I said.

  “You mean unless they become murder suspects,” he replied.

  That statement stopped me cold. Since I’d been determined to stay as far away from this case as possible, it hadn’t even occurred to me that the Cambridges and those closest to them would likely be considered as suspects in this case.

  Now that the point had been brought up, it was hard to dismiss it. At the same time, the Cambridges were good people. They wouldn’t do something as awful as this…would they? It was an extreme act, but these were extreme times.

  Just like that, my thoughts were off to the races. If I wasn’t careful, I could find myself knee deep in this investigation before long, and that’s the last thing I wanted…wasn’t it?

  Oh, dear.

  This was just what I’d worried about. The very thing I wanted to think about the least was suddenly the one thing I couldn’t get off of my mind. Such was the frustrating nature of life sometimes. I tried to rid my brain of the chilling thought that the Cambridges could become embroiled in this conversation, but, like an annoying song I couldn’t get out of my head, it just kept repeating over and over.

  Chapter Four

  It ended up being a tough night for me that resulted in very little sleep. I had tossed and turned in bed while the hamster wheel kept spinning in my head. I tried to console myself with the idea that Walter Clayton surely had other enemies out there. The man wasn’t the most popular man in town to begin with even before he’d gone on trial for murder. Surely, someone other than the Cambridges must have wanted him dead, right?

  By the time morning rolled in, I’d worked myself into a tizzy. I purposefully avoided opening the Internet and didn’t turn on the television for fear of being bombarded with news stories about the case. Deep down, I knew that was a temporary fix. With a story this big, I’d have to walk around with blinders over my eyes and construction-worker headphones over my ears to truly avoid any mention of this case.

  Murders were a rare occurrence in Hollywood. That was one of the reasons I felt so safe and comfortable living here. The problem was, when a violent crime like this did occur, it gripped the whole town in its clutches and didn’t let them come up for air. This case would be on the tips of everyone’s tongues for weeks, if not months, to come.

  So, while electronic devices could be avoided, gossip from the residents of Hollywood could not. With previous investigations, gossip about the case had actually become a more popular topic than the weather, and in Florida, where Mother Nature operated with fiery mood swings that often turned on a dime, that was saying a lot.

  After finishing off a cup of coffee to shake off the lingering grogginess of an incomplete night of sleep, it became clear that keeping my distance from this case may have been nothing more than wishful thinking.

  There was one way to get the answers I was looking for. That’s how I found myself at Home Sweet Home Cooking, joining Joe for his usual bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast breakfast. He was the kind of man that restaurants were designed for. To say he was a regular was the ultimate understatement. I was surprised he didn’t have a menu item named after him yet. Or a plaque on the wall with his picture on it with a caption reading “Thanks for keeping us in business.”

  I didn’t blame him. He knew his strengths, and cooking wasn’t one of them. I think he still kept the fire department on speed dial after his last battle with his stove. He’d lost that fight after making a charred casualty of an innocent piece of chicken. These days, he only ventured into his kitchen to grab a cold can of beer and had adopted a very simple cooking philosophy—the best meal was one that was cooked by someone else.

  As I joined him at his customary booth, he was savoring the last crispy slice of bacon on his plate. My taste buds were jealous. I wanted nothing more than to poach that slice from him but had to find some restraint. I wasn’t there to place a side order of bacon envy.

  “You can’t go wrong with bacon, can you?” he said.

  “Until you run out of it,” I replied.

  That was probably not the best comment to make just as he finished crunching down on his last slice. He finished chewing, then ran his hand over his belly.

  “My belt probably wouldn’t approve of me ordering seconds, would it?”

  I snickered at him. “Save some for the rest of us.”

  “Hey, I’ll be a hog if I want to. By the way, did you hear they’re turning the vacant space that used to be Thompson’s Bistro into a new donut shop?”

  This was quickly devolving into torture for my taste buds. I was only human. I could only resist so much before giving in to delicious temptation. At the same time, I couldn’t help but laugh at the cliché that was a cop swooning over the future opening of a donut shop.

  I tried my best not to laugh but failed miserably.

  When Joe saw me chuckling, he became self-conscious. “What are you laughing at?”

  I feared that the truth would only send us down an argumentative path, so I shook my head and deflected. “I just don’t know how you keep the pounds off as well as you do.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The job keeps me active.”

  That was the perfect transition to steer the conversation away from food. “Speaking of, are you not going to tell me about how the case is going?”

  His face stiffened. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  I shot him an offended look.

  He shrugged it off. “You were the one who told me you didn’t want anything to do with this case.”

  Touché. There was no better argument than having my own words used against me.

  I rolled back my previous statement. “Color me curious.”

  Joe wanted me to eat a little bit of crow first. “What about that thing you said about justice having been done already?”

  Grrr. He was really making me work for this—a little too much. Was this information really worth jumping through hoops for?

  In my frustration, I put up the white flag. “Forget I even asked.”

  Seeing that there was no more fun to be had in toying with me, he finally gave in. “That’s a shame. I’m close to getting some real justice here.”

  My eyes darted open wide. “Really?”

  He nodded. “I think I’m closing in on the killer.”

  “Who?”

  I had gotten a little too excitable for his tastes. He tried to temper my enthusiasm.

  “Look, it’s just a hunch right now, but I feel good about it. Now I just need to find enough evidence to back it up.”

  There was a lot of preface there but no meat for me to chew on. “Who are we talking about again?”

  “Adam Leary.”

  The name came off of Joe’s lips like a bombshell dropped in slow motion. In all my worries about the Cambridges, I’d forgotten about Adam. Clearly, I shouldn’t have been so m
yopic, as this news shook me like an earthquake. I thought when I left California, I wouldn’t ever be shaken like that again. I was wrong.

  “Sadie’s fiancé?” I shook my head. “No. I can’t believe it.”

  “The truth doesn’t care if you believe it. Believe it or not, Adam Leary has become the prime suspect in this case.”

  Those words sounded so wrong coming off of Joe’s tongue. Adam had always been a sweet man. Not to mention completely devoted to Sadie. In a relationship, that was an admirable thing. Perhaps in this circumstance, his devotion was his downfall. Sadie was the love of his life. Losing her was bad enough. Was seeing her killer walk free too much for him to stomach?

  The motive lined up. As much as I hated to admit it, there was no denying that he had a killer reason to want Walter Clayton dead. At the same time, the thought of Adam being a murderer twisted my stomach into knots.

  It made me feel queasy even thinking about it. Although, unlike my usual gut instincts, it wasn’t because I felt like my brother was wrong. I had no investigative evidence to refute Joe’s theory. This was just a purely emotional reaction.

  When my mind wandered to the nitty gritty of the case, my opinions were less visceral. Sure, the motive was there, but I knew just as well as any sleuth that a suspect couldn’t be convicted on motive alone. Means and opportunity were sometimes even more important. Did Adam Leary have both of those working against him as well?

  I might have answered my own question. Clearly, either the means or the opportunity was somewhat murky. Otherwise, my brother would have already put Adam behind bars. The question became, how murky? Just as I was trying to come to grips with the news, life unexpectedly shook the ground beneath our feet again.

  Before I had the chance to ask him about it, this emotional earthquake sent an aftershock rippling through the conversation. Only instead of being minor and without sizable damage, like most aftershocks were, this one came in the form of a tectonic shift.

  It began with a call coming over Joe’s police radio.