Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set

by Meredith Potts

  At the same time, I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure it didn’t come to that. If tensions escalated, I wouldn’t be able to get answers.

  Before I replied, an idea came to me to defuse the tension.

  I pulled two twenty-dollar bills out of my purse, slapped them on the bar, then yelled out, “The next round is on me!”

  My declaration brought a rousing cheer from the barflies, who hooted and hollered with delight.

  Even the bartender lightened up. He quickly grabbed the twenty-dollar bills from the bar top and flashed a smile at Hank. “I like her.”

  Content that I had curried some favor in the bar, I turned my attention back to Hank, who looked frustrated.

  “I just made some new friends,” I said. “I’m pretty sure trouble doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

  Hank gave me a sideways glance. “Slick move.”

  Just because I had been able to win the rest of the bar over didn’t mean I was able to do the same with Hank. His mood didn’t thaw in the least. If anything, after seeing how savvy I was, he looked even more reticent to speak to me.

  If I was going to get him to open up, I would need to try a different approach. I stated my case as plainly as I could. “I’m just here to talk.”

  He stared down at the bar top. “I’m not in the mood for talking.”

  “I can understand after what happened to your brother.”

  Hank clammed up even more. “I really don’t have any interest in talking about that.”

  Perhaps if I opened up to him, he would respond in kind. “I know what it’s like. My sister went missing ten years ago.”

  The mention of my sister’s disappearance usually softened the hardest of personalities. Not Hank. He remained as stiff as ever.

  Hank slapped the bar top. “How many different ways can I tell you that I have no interest in talking to you?”

  He could say it as many times as he wanted. I wasn’t going to leave until I got the information I was looking for. Before desperation took hold of me, I made one more simple appeal to his emotions. “I’m just saying that we all want the same thing here—for Andrew’s killer to be brought to justice.”

  “No!” he yelled. “What I want is for you to leave me alone.”

  “I will—”

  Hank took a deep breath as a look of relief came to his face. “Good.”

  Unfortunately, he had jumped the gun. There had been more to my last statement. I finished my point. “Just one thing first.”

  “No—”

  I stared him down. “What were you arguing with your sister-in-law about in the parking lot this morning?”

  Considering how combative he had been, I did not expect him to open up to me. If a lie came out of his mouth, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. More than anything, I had asked him the question to see how he would react to it.

  Until that moment, he had not shown a single ounce of restraint. Somehow, he managed to muster some.

  “That was family business,” he said.

  He didn’t volunteer any further information, nor did he appear to be in any mood to elaborate.

  “About how her husband fired you?” I asked.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You are really pushing it.”

  I replied with a soft tone in my voice. “I just want to hear your side of the story.”

  He stared daggers into my eyes. “You are poking your head around where it doesn’t belong. Keep doing that, and things will end badly for you.”

  It would have been easy to let myself be intimidated by his threats. I knew it was important to hold strong. If I showed any sign of weakness, he would prey on it. No matter how much he tried to get me to tremble in fear, I couldn’t afford to play into his hand.

  I looked at him with fierce resolve on my face. “I’ll bet the police would like to know about how you’d just been fired from the chocolate shop shortly before your brother’s murder.”

  Hank snarled at me. “Are you threatening me?”

  Before he went even further off the handle, I wanted to make my position clear.

  I shook my head. “No. I just want to get your side of the story. You’re the one making this more difficult than it has to be.”

  I could tell that he wanted to lash out at me, but he knew that doing so would only make me turn to the police. Instead, he mustered some restraint.

  I continued. “Now, about you being fired—”

  Hank threw up his hands. “How do you even know about that?”

  “Who do you think told me?” I asked.

  The gears spun in his head. “Leah threw me under the bus?”

  I nodded.

  Before I could get a word in, Hank threw the spotlight back on his sister-in-law. “If you’re looking for someone who had a reason to want my brother dead, Leah had no shortage of motive.”

  “That may be true, but she has an alibi for the time of the murder.”

  He fired back. “Not if her man-on-the-side lied for her.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Man-on-the-side?”

  Hank snickered. “You didn’t know? Leah has been cheating on Andrew with Patrick Doherty.”

  “Is that so?”

  Hank nodded. “My brother told me about it.”

  My eyes were as wide as saucers. “Wait. Your brother knew his wife was cheating on him?”

  He nodded.

  “And yet Andrew stayed with her?” I asked.

  “My brother wasn’t exactly faithful, either.”

  That wasn’t a new detail to me, but I didn’t dare to stop him. I didn’t mind hearing a little retread. I just wanted to keep him talking. If I could do that, there was no telling what else might slip out of his mouth.

  “And Leah knew about Andrew’s infidelity?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Hank said. “They both knew each other’s dirty laundry. They just didn’t like how I knew it. That’s why I was fired.”

  That was an interesting theory, but it didn’t completely ring true to me.

  “So you weren’t fired because you kept coming into work drunk?”

  He shook his head. “That’s the excuse they went with. Really, they were just worried that if they kept me around any longer that the secrets I knew would blow up in their faces. It looks like they were right to worry.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Andrew’s dead now.”

  “You’re convinced that Leah killed him?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  “Do you have any proof of your claim?” I asked.

  “All I know is that with Andrew dead, he was out of her life, allowing Leah to sell the business for a handy profit,” Hank said.

  That thought had crossed my mind as well. The problem was, as suspicious as that made Leah look, it didn’t change the fact that she had an alibi for the time of the murder.

  Despite Hank’s efforts to convince me otherwise, there was just as thick of a cloud of suspicion hanging over him. If that wasn’t enough, he had made no mention of an alibi.

  Even though Hank clearly didn’t have any concrete evidence to give me, while I had him talking, I wanted to try to milk him for as much information as I could.

  “What about Nathan? You two didn’t exactly seem to be on the best of terms,” I said.

  “Are you asking if I think he could have killed his father?” Hank replied.

  I nodded.

  There was no hesitation in his voice. “Of course.”

  My eyebrows arched. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Nathan used to tee off on his old man.”

  “About what?”

  “He couldn’t believe that his father was cheating on his mom.”

  I put my hand out on the bar top. “He knew his dad was cheating on Leah?”

  Hank nodded. “He sure did. And he had no problems telling his father off about it.”

  “Did he know his mother was cheating as well?” I asked.

 
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t matter to Nathan, anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “The guy is a real mama’s boy. Leah can do no wrong in his eyes.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “That’s very interesting.”

  While I was busy processing all of this new information, Hank tried to make an exit from the conversation.

  “I answered your questions,” Hank said. “We’re done now.”

  I stopped him. “Not so fast.”

  Hank continued getting up from the bar. “I told you everything I know.”

  “Yeah—about everyone else. You aren’t exactly above suspicion yourself,” I said.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Andrew was my brother. How dare you accuse me of killing him?”

  “True, he was your brother, but he also fired you.”

  “That’s hardly a motive for murder.”

  “What are you doing for work now?” I asked.

  Hank hesitated before replying. “I’m between jobs.”

  I gave him a critical stare. “Uh-huh. Now, with your brother’s death, chances are that you’ll have some inheritance money coming your way.”

  He responded with bluster. “I don’t like where you’re going with that.”

  “Are you saying you weren’t in his will?”

  Hank shot me a glare. “I’m saying that I didn’t do anything wrong.” He back stepped as he continued talking. “The police can’t prove anything, and neither can you. Now, I’m out of here.”

  Unfortunately, there was nothing I could say to keep him there. So despite my best efforts, as Hank exited the bar, the interview came to an abrupt end.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nathan Stewart lived on the favorable side of Oak Street where the semi-industrial east side of town gave way to charming Victorian and Cape Cod-style houses. It felt good to cross back over to the good side of town.

  The scenery was nicer in central Treasure Cove, but I wondered if the conversation would be just as tense with Nathan as it had been with Hank. I would find that out shortly as I parked in front of Nathan’s place. I was only eight blocks away from the dive bar that I had just questioned Hank in, but I felt like I was in a different world.

  I stared at the Hawaiian-themed building with a row of palm trees lining the front of the complex and prepared myself for the worst while praying for the best. When Nathan opened the door to his apartment without giving me any trouble, it seemed like my prayer had been answered. The thirty-one-year-old had long black hair, a full beard, and a short, stocky frame. Most importantly, he appeared to be receptive to conversation.

  That was certainly a relief after the hassle Hank had given me at the bar. Whether things would stay this placid was yet to be determined. My guess was that the answer would be no. That meant I had all the more reason to get as much information as possible before things went south.

  Nathan and Hank’s dispute in the church parking lot had proven that they had plenty of differences. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they also had at least one thing in common as well. Their chosen way of coping with Andrew’s death was by turning to alcohol for comfort.

  Nathan had a beer can in his hand as he spoke with me. Judging by the red look in his brown eyes, I didn’t think it was the first drink he’d had since arriving home from the funeral service. Typically, alcohol loosened a person up. Would that be the case here? Or was he inebriated to the point where he would end up lashing out at me? I knew that I had to walk a very fine line.

  “Sabrina. What are you doing here?” Nathan asked.

  I extended my sympathies. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry about what happened to your father.”

  Nathan looked down at the ground. “Thank you for your support, but I don’t really want to talk about my dad right now.”

  I gave him a look of deep empathy. “I understand that it’s a really emotional time for you.”

  He let out a big sigh. “There’s an understatement.”

  My plan wasn’t working. I could see him already trying to inch his way out of the conversation.

  If I was going to get any useful information out of him, I needed to find a way to get him to open up. When Nathan took another swig of his drink, an idea came to me.

  “It feels like beer was invented for times like this,” I said.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Although I’m not sure that there’s enough beer in the world to get through this. Speaking of, I really want to be left alone right now.”

  Uh-oh.

  This interview was slipping away from me. If I didn’t come up with a stall tactic on the fly, our discussion would come to an abrupt end. I had to make a last-gasp effort to keep him from closing the door on me.

  Given my time constraints, I was amazed that I was able to come up with anything. “Your mother was really worried about you. She wanted me to check up on you.”

  It was a total lie. Would he be able to see through it?

  “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  I was really grasping at straws now. Still, I had to do everything in my power to keep him talking. “Are you sure? You just told me there wasn’t enough beer in the world to get through this.”

  “Things are rocky right now, but I can take care of it.”

  It was hard not to let my frustration boil over. No matter what I threw at him, he continued trying to worm his way out of talking to me.

  Even so, I couldn’t give up. It was time to come up with something clever. Or to double-down on my lie. Whichever got me the answers I was looking for.

  “Your mother was particularly worried about you after that fight you had with your uncle,” I said.

  Nathan got a steely look in his eyes. “If Hank doesn’t start any more trouble, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Finally, he gave me something to work with. Now that I knew what button to press to get him worked up, I tried to make him as uncomfortable as possible. “I wouldn’t count on that. Your uncle does not have the most complimentary things to say about you or your mother.”

  I had tried things the nice way, only to have that tactic fail miserably. Going right after his sore spots produced much better results. Apparently, telling him that his uncle had thrown him under the bus was just the trigger that he needed.

  Nathan became very animated. “Hank badmouthed my mother to you?”

  Thankfully, this time, I didn’t actually have to lie. In addition, the truth provided quite an interesting insight. For example, Nathan only seemed to care that his mother had been painted in a negative light. His own reputation didn’t appear to matter to him at all.

  I confirmed that Hank did not have favorable things to say about Nathan’s mother, which only spurred Nathan’s anger on even more.

  “What did he say?” Nathan asked.

  “That your mother might have been responsible for your father’s death,” I said.

  If Nathan wasn’t worked up before, he was practically spitting fire after hearing my response. It turned out that there was nothing quite like pitting one suspect against another to grease the wheels of an interview.

  “You can’t listen to anything my uncle says,” Nathan replied.

  Things were starting to get very interesting. With Nathan at a fever pitch, I played along, eager to hear if he would provide me with a new lead.

  “Why shouldn’t I listen to him?” I asked.

  “Hank acts like my father only fired him because my mother forced him to. In reality, if he wasn’t such a train wreck, he’d still have a job.”

  “Is that what he and your mother were arguing about in the parking lot? Him being fired?”

  Nathan nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You are very protective of your mother.”

  “Of course I am. That’s what good sons do.”

  “I don’t disagree. What intrigues me is that I don’t remember you ever being as protective of your father.”

  He wasn’t expecting me to turn the tables o
n him like that. In his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to produce a quick response. Even when he did reply, he only provided a weak argument.

  “That’s not true,” Nathan replied.

  I gave him a look of complete disbelief, which only made him want to defend himself even more. Before he had the chance to, I made sure that I got the next word in. At the same time, now that I had him back on his heels, I wanted to see if I could squeeze the truth out of him.

  “I’m pretty sure I know why you aren’t so quick to defend your father,” I replied. “You see, your uncle told me something else—”

  “I already told you that you shouldn’t listen to him.”

  “Even when he told me that your father was cheating on your mother?” I asked.

  Anger came quickly to his face. “Especially then. I don’t know where Hank got that information from.”

  “Hank told me that he saw your father and Melissa Wilcox together.”

  “That’s all news to me,” Nathan replied.

  “Hank says otherwise.”

  Nathan glared at me. “We have already established that you can’t believe my uncle.”

  “That’s curious, because Hank told me you were livid at your father for betraying your mother like that,” I said.

  He blew his top. “For the last time, I didn’t know my father was cheating on my mother!”

  I shot him a critical stare. “Where did Hank get that information from, then?”

  “That’s the problem with my uncle,” Nathan said. “He has a nasty habit of just making things up.”

  I folded my arms. “He seemed pretty truthful to me.”

  Nathan’s voice took on a frantic tone. “That’s because he’s a good con artist. Lying comes naturally to him. He’s the one who probably did it.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “Why would he kill your father?”

  “Money.”

  “What money?” I asked.

  “My father’s will.”

  “Hank is listed in the will?”